#he's a menace but he's got pretty privilege on his side

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

"You look lonely. I can fix that" but it's siren Rain trying to lure someone toward the water in my Ghost pirate AU.

[cannellee]

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE (boarding school au!) ☆ part. 1

୨୧ yandere! alpha! tokyorev x omega! f! reader (harem : mikey, draken, mitsuya, chifuyu, kazutora, baji, ran, rin, izana, kakucho, kokonoi, inupi, sanzu, kisaki, hanma)

— you're joining an elite all-boy (and alpha) boarding school and they all turn out to have a very dark affection for you.

cw : reverse harem, yandere themes, harassment, bullying, blackmailing, stalking, possessive and controlling behaviour etc.

a/n : I had the idea thanks to this post and from the kdrama hierarchy I just finished watching + I hope it's not messy + they'll be multiple parts to it I think...

MY MASTERLIST : ☆

having a girl attend an all-boy school is unusual, but an omega enrolling in a place filled with alphas is almost unheard of.

let's simply say that your father was suddenly transferred to another school, forcing the both of you to move in tokyo in the course of a week only. your dad is offered a room directly inside the building with other of his colleagues and for convenience, his only daughter was allowed to reside here as well.

the school is pretty far away from the rest of the city too, and with all the wealth this school has accumulated, they find the generosity in themselves to let you attend classes with the others in exchange for your father's appreciated hard work.

there aren't a lot of students you point out, but they seem to all stand out in their own way. your class is composed of the elite, boys all born with a golden spoon, privileged lifestyles and a brilliant future.

you're intimidated at first, scared even, not used to being surrounded by so many alphas at once. you feel like a prey once you enter the classroom for the first time, the news has passed around quickly and the students grew very curious of the sweet faced omega who was going to join them soon.

you quickly got to learn the name of the rep, who has been nothing but welcoming to you and made your arrival as pleasing as possible. mitsuya made sure to show you around, he was kind and reliable, giving you his number almost immediately after your first encounter.

you had spent the day glued to his side, shyly smiling to his friends and listening attentively to the advices he gave you. the next morning, you came a bit sooner, rushing over to the empty seat he had kept for you right in front of him, happily thanking him for his kindness.

mitsuya is quick to present you his closest friend draken, a big and strong alpha who's just that tall you can't help but notice him. despite his menacing appearance, draken is calm and collected and keeps his pheromones in check. you even notice how pleasantly odourless the whole classroom has been since your arrival. you had expected to feel your nose burn from the intense pheromones and testosterone alphas usually emitted, but you had to admit they were rather well behaved and you mentally thanked them for their thoughtfulness.

draken helps you out during sport lessons, shows you how to score when playing basketball, catches the ball for you before gently handing it to you and makes sure the others are being careful around you.

mikey's the one who offers you his sweater once it gets cold during the late night classes or when it gets dark outside and going back to your rooms through the immense garden is a bit of a challenge. he doesn't really let you argue and throws it over your shoulders, he doesn't give room for discussion and you're too cooperative to refuse anyway. you notice that the others instinctively act a little less clingy when he's interacting with you, you find their group dynamic quite interesting and you like how comfortable they make you feel.

his scent often lingers on you for hours afterwards, even going the next day with a tiny patch of mikey's distinctive aroma on your shoulder. you sometimes see him eyeing that exact spot with a lot of intensity that if often destabilises you. when you look up at him with a puzzled look, he simply gives you a kind smile, hiding behind it how possessive you make him.

you later meet kazutora, who doesn't waste time introducing himself to you. you notice that he's pretty popular, always in the middle of all conversations, laughing loudly with the other boys and receiving every invitations to every parties. he always tries to get your attention one way or another, bragging about his good grades, casually flirting with you before someone else reprimands him for that. you should come and see one of his game soon ! he's in the basketball team with draken and the both of them would love to see you cheer on them in the bleachers.

chifuyu's room's right next to yours. when mitsuya first showed you your room, he had called him to help you unpack and settle here comfortably. chifuyu's awkward but he's got the spirit, almost choking on his own saliva once he catches a sniff of your sweet scent for the first time. were all omegas supposed to smell this good or are you just the exception ?

then there's kisaki, who visits you quite often, pretending that he likes it better to be in your room after classes only because it's easier to talk without the hubbub of other students. you notice how sweaty his palms are, nervous gaze desperately trying to find something to look at if not your chest, and hands fixing his glasses every minute or so. he helps you out with your homework, of course your level is nowhere near theirs. they're the elite, born and raised in the best conditions possible to rise and become part of the top of society. he's sighing a lot, slightly mocking how hard you find your homework even though all of them are able to finish them with ease. he explains it all, shaking his head at how cutely dumb this pretty omega is and how helpless she'll be once thrown into the big wide world. will you be able to survive on your own ? kisaki is skeptical...

by hanging out often with kisaki, you're naturally bound to meet his best friend, hanma. he's exactly what you would think of when imagining a "privileged delinquent". he smokes behind the building, skips classes but still manages to score high and doesn't take shit from anyone. you would find funny how easy life is for them if the power they hold over the teachers and their school headmaster wasn't pretty horrifying. the hierarchy clearly wasn't anything close to normal, as every family of those students were very influential, a tantrum from one them is all it would take to have a teacher fired on the spot. you quickly learned that when a new professor tried to teach hanma some manners and reprimand him for carrying cigarettes with him. the poor man didn't get the justice he should have had and instead was gone the next day.

but no matter he says, hanma is actually pretty thoughtful. he always tells you to stay away from those toxic garbage and that only he is allowed to do that. he makes sure to never smoke near you and sprays perfume before coming over to you. you can scold him all you want as well, he likes to hear you nagging him. but that's just you, nobody else.

anyways, hanma warned you that if one of those assholes (students and teachers alike) were to bother you, you should simply talk to him about it. he seemed very adamant about making your year here very pleasant and you thank him for that, even if you don't necessarily approuve of his methods.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

lately you've been feeling like somebody's following you... but you simply shrug it off as baji is always with you. he's confident and assertive, you don't feel nervous around him. he's part of the swimming club and invites you over during his competitions. he drags you to one of the privatised pool under his name at your school and helps you out in the water, enjoying more than he should how you cling to him whenever you get too tired and he won't let you go back to edge. he feels your soft boobs pressing against his firm skin and sees the sweet panic in your eyes and his instincts jump out immediately.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

saint valentine's near and you can practically hear them all whine with impatience. of course their adorable omega was going to bake something, isn't she the best ? tight apron tied around your perfect waist, you're trying hard to make as many chocolate as possible, putting them in small boxes and decorating them with a pink ribbon.

you're glad they let you use their own kitchen, the one you and your father had along with his colleagues was nothing sort of dreamy, used and damaged. theirs was huge, clean and filled to the brim with the latest and most sophisticated tools you could only dream of. they told you to use it whenever you had something you wanted to bake instead of that poor excuse of a kitchen, living inside that garbage was a crime they thought, they couldn't let their precious omega walk around in such filth...

sanzu almost begged you to bake some chocolate for him, you even thought he was gonna end up on his knees from how hard he was pleading... you laughed a bit at his antics and gave him his holy grail with your usual smile that never fails to make him want to bite your cute cheeks. mikey's eagerly waiting for his own share of chocolate and you promptly give them all theirs without forgetting to thank them for how kind they all were since the beginning of the year.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

that's... weird. you never thought you would've felt unsafe inside the buildings of this school with how protective they all were. but again, you should have expected that from at least one of them, you're in an all-alpha school after all...

but now you're all alone, the late night snack you left your room for tightly held in your fist and frantic eyes searching around you for anyone awake at this hour too. you didn't think someone would actually assault you in such a place, but here you were...

the corridor is empty, dim lights don't help your vision at all and the foul scent of an alpha is invading your nose.

the boy starts to dig his nose inside the crook of your neck and you physically recoil at the intrusive action, shaking at how forcibly submissive it makes you.

lucky for you, the lights turn on and a familiar small group of alphas arrive after a minute only. mikey's the one to give the first blow before leaving the rest to baji and sanzu. kakucho is as kind as ever, the most reassuring person you could wish for and softly makes sure you're alright after the small scolding of mitsuya. of course you should've called one of them if you were hungry ! only a helpless omega like you would have done that, so vulnerable and in need of a saviour... how did you even survive on your own before meeting them ?

you honestly can't answer nor think straight anymore next to the pleading of the beaten up boy, the two angry alphas spreading pheromones you wish you didn't smell because of how strong they are...

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

— second part coming soon...

[incorrectbatfam]

dickie and jason headcanons pretty please

Everyone thinks Tim and Damian are a nightmare to have in a room together, but it's actually Dick and Jason. Tim and Damian still need to work through a thing or two and subconsciously pull their punches because of that, but Dick and Jason have no such thing. They've been siblings the longest and at this point it's an undisputed fact that they love each other, so there's zero limit to them being absolute menaces

They've been in a Toy Blast standoff since last year. Dick keeps speedrunning the levels and Jason keeps deleting the app from Dick's phone until he catches up

The bathroom switch in the Bludhaven apartment is outside the bathroom. Barbara kept telling Dick to get it changed and he kept procrastinating, so when Jason broke in and turned the lights off in the middle of Dick's shower, all Babs said from the other room was "Told you so"

Jason: "Alfred, tell Dick to quit breathing over my shoulder"

Dick: "Tell Jason to quit blocking the screen with his big helmet"

Alfred: "Sort it out yourselves, this is not in my job description"

Dick wrestled Jason for an Oreo but also gave him the comfier sleeping bag in the span of five minutes while they were on a stakeout

Jason is absolutely the sibling that chases Dick around the house with a knife for fun when Bruce and Alfred aren't around

Dick: "Get out of my room"

Jason, lurking outside the windowsill: "I'm not in your room"

Dick's outfits aren't truly considered nice until they pass the Jason Test, which is getting a "meh" instead of "you look like you were drawn by a fourth grader"

To brag that he got the last slice of pizza, Jason slapped it across Dick's face

The most accurate ruler in the world is the one they use to split the last candy bar (but Dick secretly lets Jason have an extra millimeter)

And the most accurate measuring cup is the one they divide the last of the apple juice with (though Jason generously gives Dick a few drops more)

The tension is palpable—even the Subway guy cutting their sandwich can feel it

Alfred sends them out to do yard work and they start sword-fighting with increasingly bigger sticks until Dick grabs a rake and Jason whips out the All-Blades

Jason: "I was here first!"

Dick: "I was born first!"

Jason: "I was adopted first!"

Dick has two Instagram accounts—Dick Grayson and Nightwing. Jason has three—Jason Todd, Red Hood, and the verified Nightwing

When the Cave is colder than usual, Jason brings Dick his favorite peppermint hot chocolate but always takes the first sip

Together they stole the bat-plane, flew to Lebanon for food, received a hefty fine after nearly colliding with a fighter jet, got a huge scratch on the side, paid someone under the table to fix it, and put it back where they found it in the span of Bruce debriefing the Justice League

Dick will go through Jason's leftovers, pick out what he likes, and leave the rest. Later he'll hear Jason walk out of the kitchen shouting "Who the FUCK took the shrimp out of my shrimp fried rice?!"

When they were kids Jason's bedtime was half an hour later than Dick's. Dick still has beef with Bruce about that

Dick is Player 1. Jason is Player 6 because the first time they played he grabbed a random controller from a box of dozen

Jason: "Help me bury this body"

Dick: "Sure"

Jason: "Also I need to delete all record of this guy's existence"

Dick: "Will do"

Jason: "And can you get me a drink?"

Dick: "Get it yourself"

When he first arrived, Jason was resistant to the idea of having an older sibling until he realized he has Younger Brother Privilege

Dick hides the remote with a sword swallowing trick and Jason hates it

They use texts for personal conversations, WhatsApp for vigilante business, and Snapchat for unhinged memery. It's like talking to 3 separate people

They also have their own text abbrevation: DTB (Don't tell Bruce)

They don't apologize, they just sulk in their rooms for a couple hours until Alfred calls them down for dinner and they forget all about it

Goon: "Who's that blue fella? Youse was fightin' real loud"

Jason: "Nightwing. He just pisses me off sometimes"

Goon: "I can take care of him"

Jason, lighting a cigarette: "Go ahead, I'll be here when you get your ass handed to you"

[baeshijima]

— it's the small things with you that matter most

just some day-to-day snippets depicting how it's like to be in a relationship with alhaitham.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 4.4k wc, fluff, (attempts at) humour, slight crack, established relationship, idiots in love

A/N : HAPPY BDAY BELOVED HAITHAM !! smitten clingy sappy menace haitham is my lifeline huhu 〒▽〒 (this is also just me once again advocating cute/energetic readers with haitham TヘT)

(can be read as a standalone or viewed as the post-happenings of [how to woo the acting grand sage 101] ^^)

Navigating through a relationship with Alhaitham isn't as hard as one might think.

The transition from friends-who-pined-for-years to lovers was a lot easier than you’d like to admit. While there were some significant changes to adjust to (read: Alhaitham's sudden surge in displays of affection), your dynamic pretty much remained the same.

And while you've had your fair share of ups and downs, most of your more serious fights happened before you got together. Considering how long you both have known one another, it wouldn't be an understatement to say you know the other like the back of your hand — understanding minuscule hints and mannerisms anyone else wouldn't notice — and so, most disputes are settled before they can even surface.

Most of your fights wouldn’t drag on for long as you're both pretty open to discussing the root cause and where you both were in the wrong. That and the fact it's hard to be apart from each other under bad terms, as you've come to realise after the particularly bad argument you had two months ago (Kaveh demanded you both stay at your house so that he didn’t have to witness your intensified displays of affection after reconciling).

More often than not, your subject of disagreements are petty, typically resulting in revoked privileges of affection from the victim. That usually results in both sides being depraved and cranky (well, more so than usual in Alhaitham’s case) until the revoked privilege is, uh, unrevoked,

Well, it’s a good thing you both rarely argue!

--

“How could you?!” you cry out, lower lip tugged between your teeth, fists clenched and body trembling. The air between you comes to a standstill, your ears ringing from the built up pressure. “I trusted you!”

Alhaitham merely chuckles, cold and unforgiving. “That was your own mistake.”

Your eyes widen when he raises his hand, breath hitching at his enclosed fist. “Wait... No, don't—!”

And then he deals the final blow, destroying the last card remaining in your deck and effectively winning the match with a smug grin tugging his lips at your misery.

A heart-wrenching scream tore from your throat soon after.

“ARGHGHR—!”

“Well,” Tighnari sighed sympathetically from over your shoulder while Kaveh pats your back at your complete and utter defeat, “I guess that means it's Cyno and Alhaitham in the final round.”

“I won't lose,” is all Cyno says as he nods in your direction.

You nod back, empty and positively dead inside. “Go for it, Cyno.”

“Hey,” Alhaitham cuts in, turning to you with a deadpan. “Shouldn't you be cheering me on? You know, your lover?”

You don't face him. Instead, you cross your arms and scoff before turning your head to the side. "Hmph! As far as I'm aware, you're a traitor; not my lover."

“Wait, [Name]—”

In the end, Cyno did in fact win tonight's game night.

(As a result of this utter betrayal, you refused to indulge Alhaitham in any affection for the rest of the week.

It's Monday.)

On a surface level, most would think you're the clingy one in this relationship. They're not particularly quiet about their fascination, and it's not like you actively try to hide your affection for the absolute love of your life. In fact, sometimes when you hear those whispers and murmurs you often find yourself looping an arm around his own, crashing into him for a hug, or placing a chaste kiss against his cheek.

(It's pretty fun seeing their embarrassed reactions and awkward coughs.)

But, in actuality, the clingy one in this relationship isn't you; it's Alhaitham. Your friends — Kaveh especially — can attest to this.

Take now, for example.

“Mmh,” you groan, vision bleary as a drowsy haze weighs down on your limbs. It’s warm — invitingly so — and the temptation to drift back into deep slumber seizes the corners of your consciousness. Despite the comforting lull on the cusp of coaxing you back into sleep, the heavy arms wrapped around your midsection reminds you of your original predicament. “Haitham please. I have to—”

“No.”

“But I really should be going—”

“No.”

You sigh at his insistence. When you try to remove yourself from his arms he tightens his hold, the sheets rustling at the abrupt movement. And so you try again, only to find yourself rolled over onto your back with him hovering over you on his forearms in an effort to hold you in place. 

Warmth radiates from his torso to yours, the previous invitation to sleep more rearing its head once again. Unlike the frown lines and pout settling on his features, the drowsy droop of his eyes fighting to stay open has your heart weak and thumping wildly. You quickly avert your eyes from his earnest ones in hopes of protecting your resolve.

“I can’t stay in for too long,” you mutter, gently patting his back in hopes of appeasing your lover. It doesn’t work in your favour, however, as it only seems to spur him on and bury his face into the crook of your neck. As a result, you sense your already-waning resolve crumble at his shows of affection.

“Are you saying you don’t want to stay in bed with me and have a lazy day?”

“You know that’s the farthest thing from the truth.”

“Then stay,” he grumbles into your neck, bitter and half-asleep.

In all honesty, that offer is extremely tempting. If it weren’t for the fact you took a sick leave just the other day, you wouldn’t think twice about staying in bed where it’s all warm and cosy; not to mention it’s where your Alhaitham currently lies, trying to persuade you with his top-notch linguistic skills.

Unfortunately, the world is a cruel, unfair, unjust and dark place.

“If I was off like a certain someone,” you make sure to stress, and his fingers twitch slightly against your skin, “then I would. Unfortunately, I'm not.”

“Then just take a sick leave,” Alhaitham instantly counters. He nuzzles his nose into your skin, and a light shiver trails down your spine when he begins to litter warm kisses down the column of your throat. “I'll be all alone if you leave, you know.”

You blink once, twice, yet tufts of grey and teal remain in your sights. “...Are you guilt-tripping me into staying in bed?”

“I'm merely stating the obvious.”

Yeah. You’re not cut out for a life filled with mental battles.

“You...” A defeated huff escapes you at his matter-of-fact retort, and you could have sworn the floppy strand atop his head perked up at your surrender. “Alright. You win. Happy now?”

“Very much so,” he agrees with a smile into your skin. You spend whoever knows how long like this — lying flat on your back, running your fingers through his hair and gently massaging his scalp while Alhaitham holds you under his physique, subjecting you to his morning affections and early sun-kissed confessions.

Eventually he stops, only to roll over, prop himself up on his elbow and gaze down at you. Such tender eyes would be inconceivable to anyone who’s ever so much as spoken to Alhaitham, but knowing you’re the only one to be a victim of such expressions just makes it all the more flustering.

“What is it?” you whisper. Reaching out, you gently brush away loose strands of grey hair obscuring his eyes and tuck the longer ones behind his bare ear. His hand reaches up to grab hold of yours before bringing it down to press lingering kisses against each of your fingertips.

“Nothing,” he says in response, but a soft, sleep-induced smile tugs the corners of his lips, “just admiring you.”

“…Are you trying to make me fall in love with you again?”

“Is it working?”

“Maybe…”

He chuckles at your response before pulling you into his chest, arms and legs intertwined as he presses a long kiss atop the crown of your head, imprinting unspoken affirmations containing his everlasting love for you.

“Good.”

(“Y’know, back when I could only wonder what it would be like to date you, I always thought I would be the clingy one. Sometimes, reality really is more surprising than fantasy.”

“Are you saying I’m clingy?”

“Well,” you look down at your waist encircled by Alhaitham’s arms before locking eyes with him again. “Just a little?”)

“Ugh, it’s so cold...”

“I feel fine though.”

“Yeah, well, this isn't about you, okay? Y'know, some people aren't immune to the cold like yo— mfhm.”

“Stop talking,” he says as he fixes his scarf that's now wrapped around the lower half of your face and neck. Upon ensuring there's no gaps exposing you to the cold air, he begins his nagging, “What did I say about dressing warm? I told you you would complain about the weather but no, you said you would be fine. You even said your coat was thick enough to drown out the chill and so you only brought that. Where did that get you? Cold.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” your whine is muffled slightly through his scarf, but you've heard enough of his reprimands to last you another lifetime. “You're right, I'm wrong. Like most times.”

He breathes a sigh, eyes softening at your half-covered features, “I'm only like this because I care for you.”

“I know. Still doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

“That’s—”

Whatever Alhaitham was about to retort with vanishes, instantly forgotten when you lean forward and wrap your arms around his waist. It’s faint, but you hear his heart rate pick up — soft palpitations drumming against your ear with a brief stutter before settling into a steady rhythm.

There’s a calm ambience that settles as you bask in his familiarity. His arms wrap around you not a moment later and he relaxes in your embrace with a soft inhale and exhale against your temple (you don’t have the heart to tease him for his heart being anything but relaxed in fear of ruining the mood).

Perhaps it’s the familiarity, or maybe it’s the cold weather and warm scarf, but a question you’ve been pondering for a while seems more than fitting for this occasion as opposed to any other.

“Is there anything you dream of or desire for the future?”

There’s a minuscule pause.

“Where's this coming from all of a sudden?”

“I dunno. I guess the cold is making me feel a bit nostalgic,” you mutter into his shoulder, leaning into his warmth. A contemplative hum resounds above you and rumbles deep from his chest, firm arms pulling you closer into him — further into your solace.

“What I desire most for the future...” he begins in a whisper, causing you to lean into him a little more to hear him clearly, “...is to lead a peaceful life with you. One where we can grow old and still be content in each other’s arms, no matter the hardships we encounter or the amount of time passed. That’s the one and only future I desire more than anything.”

Butterflies pool in your stomach, ardour fills your lungs. Ah. You blink, mind blanking and throat constricting at his soft tone and words. I forgot he can speak like this.

“Are you crying?” he asks, baffled. It’s only then you realise he’s staring at you — dual-coloured irises wide and bottom lip trembling ever so slightly.

Hastily, you turn your head and rub away the fluid collecting along your lower lashes. “I-It's because your words made me emotional! How could I not react like this when you just say something like... like that?!”

“I was just being honest.”

“That’s what makes it emotional!” you cry out. Through tear clouded eyes, the scenery becomes blurred and the colours of nature begin to smudge together; an incomplete canvas stark against the perfection before you. “Because you’re so honest with your feelings and know exactly what you want, hearing you say something like that and considering our future just... makes me really happy, y’know?”

Amidst your light sniffles, a wave of bashfulness hits you. Alhaitham seldom speaks of such things he is unsure of, even more so when they are matters pertaining to the future. He’s someone who has a clear destination paved before him, paying no heed to needless quibbles nor detours and only focusing on what lies ahead. And so perhaps it is the realisation that he harbours the same sentiment as you — the one of growing old and awaking to the other for countless mornings to come — is what brought upon this flustered feeling; one that reminds you all too much of your early-stage crushing way back when.

While the sudden urge to hide your face away from the eerily silent man is strong, Alhaitham is stronger. And quicker.

“Then what about you?” he finally asks, your arms away from your face and held in his grasp. His thumbs trail along your lower lash line and wipe away any stray tears that may have escaped your attempts.

You blink at his words, dumbfounded at the redirection, “Huh?”

“Is there anything you dream of or desire for the future?”

Your lips parting in understanding, you waste no time in answering the question with a cool glimmer against your reddened eyes and an attempt at a thumbs up while in his hold, “A comfy life with endless good food.”

“...”

Wow. The wind is really loud today, huh?

You faintly register the dull ache tugging at your cheeks before noting the lack of distance between you both. With a blank stare, Alhaitham pays no mind to your drawn-out whines of protest, opting to eye you with his signature “disappointed-but-not-surprised” expression.

“Shtop pinching my cheeks.”

“And if I don't want to?”

“You're gonna stwetch 'em!”

“And? You'd still be cute regardless.”

Your face scrunches at his words, and his hand falls from your face. “Ugh, and what do you know about cuteness?”

“Enough to know that no matter what happens, you'd still be the cutest to me.” A self-assured smirk curls his lips, seemingly proud of his statement.

“Wow...” you marvel, and he seems to take your awe in stride. Your next words, however, have him immediately regretting his admittedly sappy confession. “Does that mean you'd still love me even if I became a slime? Wait, no, a fungus?”

Your lips are forced into a pucker.

“Don't push it.”

(Alhaitham would, in fact, still love you even if you somehow became a slime or a fungus. Maybe.)

There’s something so pleasant about not having to constantly deal with troublesome matters — more so if there’s troublesome people involved. Within the confinements of his own space, Alhaitham breezes through the paperwork needed to be signed and turned in for the day.

Despite the initial repulsion he felt when being nominated as the (Acting) Grand Sage, he has to admit the tedious work reaped various benefits after stepping down not too long ago; one of which being an increase in his pay for having been of such high standing. His goal to live a peaceful has never looked brighter than now — he's back to his easy job, his nine-to-five shifts, a lavish house to call his own (while pointedly ignoring the existence of his roommate), a quiet life with little-to-no disturbance, and now more mora under his name and secured for the unforeseeable future.

In short, life is perfect for the scribe, and nothing else could shake his peaceful life—

The door swings open and bangs against the wall. His once messily strewn papers now flutter in the air and leave you to stand in the centre of the commotion. Chest heaving with a grin splayed on your lips, you’re about to say something until you take note of the room's less than tidy state.

“Aha... Oops?”

Alhaitham can only stare blankly as you sheepishly glance around his office and the mess you created with your whirlwind of an entrance, your hand gingerly rubbing the back of your neck when avoiding his pointed gaze. You quickly fumble to gather the loose sheets that landed around you, and he spies two boxed-up meals hanging from your arms.

Right. Nothing else could possibly shake his peaceful life until you stumbled into it all those years ago, a bumbling fool whom he came to adore more than he thought possible. You, who brought him a world of unimaginable vibrancy and beauty. You, who reduced him into a state of irrationality and impulsivity just to bear witness to your heart-pounding smile (the one that never fails to send his heart madly aflutter, and yet make him believe you could single-handedly be the cause of world peace). You, who he would undeniably, undoubtedly, pluck out the stars for if it would protect you from sorrow and heartache for the rest of your life. You, who has his heart, body, and soul in the palm of your hands.

Well, if anything, you’re a key figure in his peaceful life and future life plans; to him, you’re his precious person — and he has no intentions of changing that.

--

After recollecting the scattered sheets and being on the receiving end of Alhaitham’s nags of “Don’t you know how to knock and enter like a normal person?” and “What would have happened if you dented my wall?”, you settle down with the freshly boxed-up lunches.

With your regular lunch meet-up underway, you ramble about your day while he listens, adding a comment or two here and there where he deems appropriate. It’s the usual routine; its familiarity brings you comfort like no other, and one you couldn’t imagine a world without.

Your mouth freezes open, the spoonful you were about to eat remaining stagnant midair. Alhaitham doesn’t seem to take any notice — well, if him chewing his own food in content with his small hums had anything to say about it. Oh. And the fact there’s an extremely pretty smile currently tugging his lips.

(Haha. Who gave him the right to be so breathtaking? Not you, but you’re not complaining. You’re actually thanking life for allowing you to bask in such a sight every day.)

“You have a pretty smile, Haitham.”

The words slip out before you even realise, but it’s not like you have any intentions of taking them back. And so you roll with it and perch your chin atop your palm, watching as Alhaitham freezes, cheeks flushing at your sudden compliment.

When he glances up, lips pursed and eyes narrowed cutely with embarrassment, he asks, “Do I?”

“Mhm,” you hum before reaching out and squishing his cheeks, much like he always does with you. Another laugh escapes you at his widened eyes, and you lift the corners of his lips into a mock smile with your fingertips. “So you should smile more.”

It takes him a moment to process your words but, when he does, a soft chuckle fills the air between you. He reaches up to enclose your hands in his, a gentle smile appearing naturally on his lips. “I only need to show you my smile, though.”

His response renders you silent, the tender affection seeping through his gaze consuming you whole. Sometimes, you forget Alhaitham is capable of such expressions — the ones that make it seem as though you hung up the stars and lit up the night sky.

Unsurprisingly, your heart flutters.

Hehe, that's my Haitham.

“What's got you looking so smug for?” he asks, one brow raised yet his smile remains.

“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you in my life like this.”

“You really...” he mutters, though you don't hear the rest when you find yourself trapped in the chair, his hands gripping the armrests and caging you in. “Keep being this cute and I might never let you go.”

“Are you implying you'll let me go one day?” you tease in an effort to ignore the warmth bubbling from his words.

What you don't expect is for him to lower his head until his nose brushes against yours, a smug grin of his own decorating his lips.

“Of course not,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “I'll just keep you in my arms for the rest of our lives.”

Your mind draws a blank. “...You wouldn't.”

“Would you like to bet on that?”

“Not particularly.”

That regular lunch meet-up resulted with you having a sore forehead.

Today was a long day. All you wanted to do was to return home once your hours were over, but it seems the world was vehemently against the notion of you cuddling up to your awaiting lover (who is very much impatiently waiting for you. On your bed. On his day off). From being bombarded by scholars to the research papers that only seem to increase in height and stacks, it’s a miracle you even made it back home within the same night!

Fumbling for your key, your mind juggles between wanting to eat or going straight to bed. Upon walking through your front door and up to your bedroom, your mind is made up.

Light spills from beneath your door, the warm hue making your body relax as you enter your bedroom to see Alhaitham resting against your headboard with a book in his hands. His gaze was already on you when you opened the door, but the thick veil of drowsiness dismisses any ideas of teasing him for it. All you want is to sleep in his arms, if you’re being completely honest here.

“You’re finally back,” he states, tone softening when taking in your fatigue. You merely reciprocate with a drowsy nod before trudging over to your bed and flopping into his awaiting arms. Alhaitham huffs when you nuzzle into his chest, his book long-forgotten in his lap. “Shouldn’t you get changed and washed up?”

His words cause you to further bury your face into him. “Don’t wanna. Too sleepy.”

“That doesn’t mean you can sleep as you are now.” A sigh escapes him when you ignore his words, his fingers gently tracing hearts into your lower back. “Just change out of those clothes at least.”

“Chest... Too comfy...” The ministrations of traced hearts come to a halt. Not even a second later do you feel a dull ache push into your skin. “Ow— hey! What was that for?!”

“Oh, great,” he drones with an abundance of nonchalance, blank stare countering your wide frenzied one. “You’re awake it seems. Now you can go get dressed and wash up without issue.”

If he didn’t have such a sturdy physique, you would’ve given his chest a good whack. Well, you still did, but it doesn’t have the same effect when he isn’t phased by the action. And so you roll off Alhaitham with a pitiful whine before trudging to the bathroom in hopes of evoking some deep-rooted, immeasurably painful guilt for depriving you of your well-deserved sleep.

(Spoiler: it doesn’t. You’re pretty sure you heard him snort instead before returning to his book. Asshole.)

When you return, you’re a bit more awake than before. Despite wanting to just sleep, you figure reading something would be the quickest route to dreamland. And so you scour through your various bookshelves in search of something to read (courtesy of Alhaitham leaving his books lying around your place and making you buy two more just to organise everything). A spine with a miniature dragon embossed in glimmering gold catches your eye, its calligraphic title resurfacing memories of when you first bought it.

With eager steps you make your way to the bed and plop down beside Alhaitham, who glances at you with a raised brow at your sudden surge of energy. He doesn’t dwell on it for long though, as he re-engrossed himself in his book with you pulled against his side.

Silence enveloped the bedroom, only disturbed by the sounds of pages turning, thoughtful hums, scoffs of disbelief, and soft gasps.

Another scoff breaks you from your concentration. Glancing up, you see Alhaitham scrutinise the page he’s on with a half-scowl. He doesn’t seem to notice your change in focus, so you ask, “What’s that you’re reading?”

“‘Are we real or is life a hoax?’” he deadpans, and you don’t find yourself surprised one bit. He glances down at the book in your hand, attention diverted from the (probably) infuriating text. “And what about you?”

“‘I was mercilessly sacrificed for the greater good of the Archon War, but I’ve somehow returned back to the moment before my death and now Morax is in love with me?’” You hold up the cover depicting a woman and, who you assumed was the artist’s rendition of Morax — a cloaked figure with wisps of long hair and stunning gold eyes — kissing the back of her hand. “That’s the title of this light novel!”

Alhaitham takes a couple of seconds to just stare blankly at your grin before retorting, “Don’t let anyone from Liyue hear what you’re reading.”

“Well, it’s not like they’re meant to be historically accurate anyway,” you grumble, re-opening the page you were previously on. “And besides, do you know the sheer number of Liyue people who bought this and left good reviews? There’s so many! And there’s also...”

Alhaitham leans back as you continue rambling about the reviews, plot holes, exciting moments, emotional moments, the insane (you made sure to stress) build-up to the confession, and so on. A warm smile tugs his lips as he listens to your voice, paying half a mind to the questionable contents of the book in his hands.

The night drones on, your voice slowly dying out along with it.

“Hey, Haitham?” you call out between slurred mumbles, your eyelids steadily growing heavy. When you hear a light hum from overhead, you continue. “Can I tell you something?”

“What is it?”

“I love you.”

And then you're fast asleep, soft snores and even breaths escaping you as you fall limp against his warm chest.

Much unlike your peaceful figure, Alhaitham's brain malfunctions. There's a familiar constriction gripping his heart — stomach sent aflutter as his racing thoughts increase in tandem with the heat rapidly consuming him. Through a shaky sigh he reclines his head against your bed's headboard, his book now obscuring his face doing little to hide the blooms of crimson searing his skin.

“What did I say about you being cute...”

The night ends with you getting some much needed sleep and Alhaitham getting no sleep at all.

(When you question him on his dark circles the next morning, he merely fixates you with a deadpan stare at your gleaming, well-rested face before gently pinching your cheeks.

“And just who do you think's at fault here, hm?”

“You, for not sleeping?”

“...”)

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[dystini]

please do #2 with pato/alex please i beg you pleasd

#2 long meandering drive with the windows down, sunlight glaring through the windshield

This turned out a little sadder/melancholy than I expected but I like it.

Find the prompt list here and give me a pairing (or let me choose. Odds are it'll be Palex)

Pato sped down roads he knew like the back of his hand. At this time of the day and day of the week, they’d be utterly empty, no other cars at all, freeing him to push the car as fast as he liked. And he liked to go fast. He glanced at his passenger, a stoic look on the man’s face as always. It was only because Pato knew Alex so well that he could see the signs – the twitching on an eyebrow, the white-knuckled grip on the door handle, and the slightest flexing of a foot like it wanted to hit the brakes – that said the man was uncomfortable.

Pato giggled. “Something wrong, Alex?”

“Do you have to drive like this?” Alex forced out between clenched teeth.

“It would be a waste not to.”

The car wasn’t a McLaren but one of the other fast cars Pato was privileged to drive on occasion. He took pity on his teammate and eased up on the pedal, still over the speed limit, but it was enough for Alex to relax a little bit.

“You are a menace.” Alex grumped.

“You love that about me.”

“Sometimes.”

Pato eased up even more as they got to a more populated area, staying at the limit, pointing out things of interest as they passed. He had to admit that this was pretty nice, the slower pace, with Alex relaxed beside him and asking questions, the breeze through the open windows ruffling Pato’s hair. One hand on the wheel, the other on the gear shift, Pato relaxed as well, squinting occasionally on a turn as the sunlight glared through the windshield.

“Show me your favorite places for mischief as a kid,” Alex asked.

“What makes you think I got into mischief? I was a good kid.”

Pato felt more than saw Alex staring at him. He chuckled.

“Honestly, I was too busy racing and away too often to get into much,” Pato admitted. “But there is one place…”

He turned onto a side street and a few blocks down, onto another, driving through a nice suburban neighborhood, the fancy car gathering stares from people out enjoying the beautiful weather. He turned the last corner and frowned, pulling to the side of the road and staring at the building ahead of him.

“That used to be a playground,” he said quietly. “I played there when I could. We lived a few blocks away and I would ride my bike over.”

Alex’s hand covered Pato’s on the gearshift. “I’m sorry.”

Pato shrugged. “’s okay. I guess it’s true. You can never go home again. Things change.”

“Yeah.”

[lavendcrhaze]

( Taylor Zakha-Perez, 26,male,he/him) oh! it’s that [ GREASER ] from {THE ANGEL RIDGE DEMONS ], they live in [ HILLCREST ]. they’re called [ SECOND IN COMMAND(LION) ] but their real name is [ LEON 'LEO' HAKIM ]. they work as a [ MECHANIC AT KING'S GARAGE ]. i heard they are [ SPITEFUL ], i also heard others say they are [ HUMOROUS ]. but who knows? the gossip mill says [ HE'S STARTING TO DEAL POT ON THE SIDE FOR EXTRA MONEY ]. (brie, 28, she/her, est, suicide/self harm) 

TW: Mention of the following; Domestic Violence, Abuse, Alcoholism,Drugs(marijuana)

GENERAL DETAILS.

FULL NAME: Leon Ivan Hakim   NICKNAME(S):  Leo, Lion (only by other greasers) NAME MEANING: Lion(of Greek Origin) AGE:   26 DATE OF BIRTH: September 9th CURRENT LOCATION:  Angel Ridge, CA ETHNICITY: Middle Eastern/Mexican GENDER:  male PRONOUNS: he/him SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual RELIGION: agnostic OCCUPATION:   mechanic at King’s Garage EDUCATION LEVEL: high school diploma & Trade Certification in Automotive Repair GANG AFFILIATION: Greaser ( Angel Ridge Demons) POSITION: Second in Command SPEAKING VOICE AND ACCENT:  semi deep with a slight rasp SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English and un poco espanol

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE, ETC.

FACECLAIM:   Taylor Zakhar Perez HAIR COLOR AND STYLE:  black curly hair that is usually at some variation of mid length COMPLEXION:  Type IV - Olive skin, rarely sunburns, always tans. EYE COLOR:  dark brown EYESIGHT:  20/20 HEIGHT: 6’2” WEIGHT:  178.5 lbs BODY AND BUILD:   athletic build TATTOOS: n/a PIERCINGS:  ear CLOTHING STYLE: jeans and some sort of button up layered over a t-shirt or his work uniform.   DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERISTICS:  Tall stature, Prominent Adam’s apple, Fuller lips, Defined jawline

SIGNATURE SCENT:  either smells like grease or his knock off Acqua Di Gio Cologne. FAMILY, RELATIONSHIPS, ETC.

MOTHER: Angelica Hakim (nee Perez) FATHER:  Hugo Hakim SIGNIFICANT OTHER: n/a BEST FRIEND:  tba EXES: Samantha Clinton (secretly) SIBLING(S):  n/a PET(S): cat named odin

Plot points: TW: Mention of the following; Domestic Violence, Abuse, Alcoholism,Drugs(marijuana)

Pre Leon his father was one of the best men the Greasers had in their ranks. He was second in command of the Angel Ridge Demons. His father's reputation began to slip as Hugo began drinking more and more heavily.

The drinking turned to yelling which ultimately lead to his father beating Leon’s mother; Angelica. This carried on for years, and his mother became very good at hiding bruises. It wasn't until Leon was about 10 years old that Leo stood up for his mother. From there the lashing was directed at Leon anytime his mother set his father off. After an altercation which landed both the men in some hot water during Leon's early teenage years the abuse tapered off, his father now knowing Leon could hold his own.

He spent most of his childhood anywhere that wasn’t his parent’s trailer in Hillcrest. Most of the time you could find him loitering around the junkyard which is what sparked the beginning of his automotive career. 

Leon had always loved the 'Greaser' lifestyle and emersed himself in their world pretty early on in life. As he got older and with a little bit of help from his nepo-baby privilege he rose in the ranks. When his father's drinking got to the point it was affecting his ability to do his job Leo often found himself stepping in for him. Leon finally burnt the bridge of any sort of relationship with Hugo when he usurped his position from the unfit man.

Through working odd end jobs Leo rebuilt his first passion project when he was 16. His bike is his baby.

Flirtatious by fault not by nature

Growing up he took pride in the ‘Menace to Society’ title he had received from the local PD. By the time he was 14, he had a rap sheet that was as long as he was tall.

Has really only had one serious relationship. His ex-girlfriend being the ‘Soc Princess’ herself. He was deeply wounded by her when she flipped on him to save herself once they were caught sneaking around. He didn’t care that she lied and had gotten him locked up because of it he more cared that he let someone in and they double-crossed him. He’s still pretty pissed she narced on him when the only thing ‘wrong’ he did was let his guard down and let her get to close.

He can be a bit of a douche but to his friends and fellow Greasers, he’s loyal to the end and would take a bullet for them.

Currently working at King’s Garage as a mechanic. 

Has recently started to sell weed out of his trailer on the low as a way to bring in extra money.

[mymainwastoocluttered]

The Butler Types (Jade/MC/Barbatos)

Jade has no fears. What is it? There's a demon butler visiting NRC? Jade has one fear.

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

I'm bitter because it's my birthday and Halloween Jade refuses to come, so I'll celebrate it with the better butler boy. *glares at Jade*

— (`⌒*)O-(`⌒´Q)

Jade is not one for fear.

Sure, he has his fair share of them. One simply does not grow up in Coral Sea without developing some. But one also simply does not grow in Coral Sea without losing some.

So Jade isn't one for fear.

But why does it have to be a butler type?

Jade can only watch, eye twitching in a nervous tic he got from Azul, as his crush ogles at the demon butler in front of her, hanging at his every word and blushing under his gaze.

His name is Barbatos, he is the loyal butler of Lord Diavolo, the Crown Prince of Devildom and the Headmaster of the Royal Academy of Diavolo, one of the few schools that might be older than NRC and even Crowley himself.

And he's exactly (Y/N)'s type.

A good looking, devilish butler with a gentle appearance and behavior who hides something darker and dangerous behind his tea brewing skills and overall otherworldly excellence? Big hell yes from her.

Why does Jade know that? Jade knows everything he possibly can about his crush, including the knowledge that he is exactly her type.

Or, at least, he's the closest anyone at NRC can get to her type.

He understandably did not account for possible visits from the Devildom, a Kingdom that has kept to itself for most, if not all, of its existence, and now he's paying the price. Floyd, the menace, is having a field day, watching from the bench they share as his other half gets more and more agitated while the demon charms Shrimpy.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I holding you up? You must be busy with Lord Diavolo– I mean, with helping Lord Diavolo," Jade feels like eating glass at the enamoured look (Y/N) sends the demon, clearly not wanting to part but also not wanting to be rude.

"No need to worry, my lady, the Young Lord has given me some free time while he speaks with Lord Crowley," Barbatos gives her a smile the eel just knows is making her legs weak. "And I'm enjoying your company very much."

Barbatos is particularly hateful because he's actually being nice. His niceness is inherent, not trained like Jade's. And the eel can tell the Prefect can tell, she's good at judging one's character. It's one of the reasons why they get along so well, she can tell when Jade is being genuine or not, a skill very few have.

If only that skill wasn't helping the green haired demon get closer to her.

"O–oh, I see..." The girl places her hands on her burning cheeks, and Jade feels another bitter sting. That is his face, that's the face only he can get from her when he compliments her. "Thank you for your kind words."

"All of them true, I assure you."

"Oh, stop it, I'm already blushing."

"It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable, my lady, but... I must admit you look very lovable," Barbatos offers a hand to her, one she shyly takes, only to then squeak when he places a soft kiss on the back of her hand. "Please, allow me to be selfish and keep you by my side for a few more moments."

Enough.

Jade walks so fast, it almost feels like he's swimming through the air. Floyd's loud laugh follows him like a predator, together with a playful "go get'em, tiger shark". As soon as he reaches the duo, he takes a silent deep breath, making sure his usual smile is on his face as he takes (Y/N)'s other hand, a privilege he earned, and brings it to his chest, right on his beating heart

"There you are, Prefect. I've been looking for you."

"J–Jade!" The eel is more than please to see her eyes completely leave the other to focus solely on him, the blush on her pretty face now all his.

When he looks up, mismatched eyes meet green eyes, and he can tell Barbatos has been fully aware of his presence from the very beginning. A sharp—quite literally—smile forms on his face at the annoyance in the other's eyes.

Ah, the greed of a servant who finally found something they want to be selfish about.

Would be entertaining if what the demon wanted wasn't Jade's already.

[tender-rosiey]

Can I request baking headcanons with Nanami, Gojo, Itadori, and Megumi?

❥ Baking with JJK characters

Includes Gojo, Nanami; Itadori, and Megumi

ᴀ/ɴ: ily and this request is amazing also no proofreading cause it’s 2am 👩‍🦲

GOJO SATORU:

Mistake of your life time like don’t be fooled by how cool he is in the gif

I am serious

One of the laws of the universe is to not let this man near the kitchen and I don’t care if he says he is the best at everything he tries

SO NOW TO HOW THIS PREDICAMENT HAPPENED

Gojo wanted to try something domestic with you considering he doesn’t have the chance to spend a lot of time with you

Hence why he is gonna make the best out of his free time

So what’s better than baking? Baking with your lover who you adore so much

Man only cared about the lover part really, he was planning on letting you do all the work while he just annoys you like the menace he is

But guess what?

He is baking because he got challenged and “the great gojo never backs down from a challenge”

Famous last words HAHA

Okay now let’s get a bit fluffy

He actually tries, surprisingly and it’s pretty cute ignoring the crazy amount of sugar he puts, I am surprised he didn’t get diabetes or cavities my god

He plays around a lot though like finish the freaking cake then get the other type cake sheesh

Is the type of guy to put whipped cream on your nose and your cheeks then kisses them off

But then, he gets bored

God knows why

But the problem isn’t the boredom, the problem how he solves said boredom

𝐒𝐢𝐫 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Well guess what

It wasn’t

Food fights never end well, there has to be a lost soul in the process 😔✊

But he starts it anyways because screw everyone

It ends up very fun though

“TURN YOUR INFINITY OFF YOU COWARD!” “HAHAHA NO!”

Smack him— or at least try to

He deserves it

T r u s t M e

Helps you in cleaning but only after you give him lots of affection and losing a bet because nothing is for free

Thanks for the reality check gojo

8/10-ing his toothbrush looking self

NANAMI KENTO:

Nanami is quite the organized man, and as we can see in most of his actions: said organization applies to all things he does to the best of his ability

So the recipe is to be followed step by step, no more no less

But he won’t mind adding a little more sugar or decreasing it a bit if you like it either way

To put it simply, baking with nanami is domestic love and acts at its best

I feel like he would be the one to just gently press a kiss to the side of your head when he walks by you in the kitchen

He also doesn’t reprimand you whenever you make a mistake or mess something up, instead opting for a more favorable way to deal with such mistakes

If you broke the egg, getting its shell in the dough, he would just take it from your hand politely and tell you “How about you go cut the fruit instead?”

And if you injure yourself then you won’t continue the baking, sorry but he is trying to spend time with you without having to worry about you

Injuring yourself with a knife DOESNT fall under the “no need to worry” category

PRO TIP: Make him read the recipe out loud

It would be like an audio book and a very good one at that

And if you fall asleep with him around then…you lucky bi—

10/10 would do again

ITADORI YŪJI:

We have gotten the understanding that yuji can cook if not fully then to a respectable extent

So I will be freely abusing this here

Consequently, baking with him is not peaceful nor chaotic, rather soft chaotic

Soft chaotic such as imitating conversations and throwing little comments here or there to fill up the silence when needed

“Y/N, what do you call a pig that does karate?”

“What do you call it, yūji?”

“pfft— wait give me a moment… it’s a PORK CHOP BWAHAHAHAA!”

“Get out, your speaking privileges have been provoked.”

In general, he is really fun to be around; messing up anything is just another reason for a shared laugh

Also, I am pretty convinced he would record you guys baking to save it as a memory and acts like it’s a cooking/baking show

“Today’s chef is y/n!”

“Your mom’s gay.”

“what.”

“what?”

A LOT OF VERY VERY ADDICTING AFFECTION

b👏a 👏c 👏k👏 👏h 👏u 👏g 👏s👏

And tickling your neck with his nose

He is so fluffy I am gonna die

9/10 mwuah mwuah stan yūji

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI:

Very quiet and occasional small conversations here and there

I don’t see him choosing to cook unless you beg or ask him to and for like a really long time

To the point he feels like it’s a necessity so he agrees and here we are 🎉 hooray toot toot

The kitchen is generally filled with a comforting silence, save for the sound of the utensils and dough being beaten

He would also randomly start small conversations

“Y/N.”

“Yes, ‘gumi?”

“Thank you.”

“Huh? For what exactly?”

Crap ton of appreciation from both sides to both sides and woe is me the lady who’s alone

Aside from these conversations, it’s generally quiet as we have mentioned but the one you need fell

INTRODUCING GOJO PLAN OF REASON 202:

meet the megumi -> mess with the megumi -> observe the reactions of the megumi -> proceed to step five you are his lover -> miss with his ass sweetheart

Like we said, mess with him and put a bit of whip cream on his cheek or eyebrows

“You kind of look like gojo-sensei.”

“I am absolutely dont.”

Overall very nice and comfy and entertaining and chef’s kiss

9.5/10 😌✨

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-2 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @fiona782

copyright © 2020 tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or your guardian will be my spouse

[dememetor]

HEY HEY HEY

I love your writing, can I please get jealous hcs for anyone? Please include suna thi he's my latest brainrot hAHA

hi, thanks for the request! and suna brainrot?? bitch me too the fuck. anyways, hope you enjoy~

(also sorry this is kinda late, i've rewritten iwaizumi and bokuto ones a million times)

Haikyuu boys when they're jealous

characters suna rintarou, kuroo tetsurou, iwaizumi hajime, bokuto koutarou, kenma kozume

warnings none but i'm probably gonna say fuck at some point

Suna Rintarou

he tries to be chill about it, he does

it hurts his ego to be this clingy but god

he can't help but to feel that sour sting of jealousy when he sees another guy approaching you

at first will only take a quick glance from afar, just to check if the guy is bothering you, and then promises himself to stay out of your business

well he doesn't

once he decides the guy has lost talking-to-y/n-alone privilege, he will nonchalantly make his way towards you, one hand in his pocket, other sneaking its way to your shoulder, resting his elbow and giving the poor boy a menacing look

he can be pretty intimidating too with that eyeliner and all

(but that look only works on people that don't know him well, he tried it on atsumu once and the latter just laughed in his face)

not the type to be openly jealous but when he sees someone blatantly flirting with you he will start to give you the Glance

blinks slowly (you know, like that one blonde haired guy gif) and looks at you through raised eyebrows as if to say hey babe, i love you and i trust you. what the fuck tho

and when the guy starts being borderline creepy he'll appear between you - and i mean literally will inject himself between you two and strike a conversation with you as if nothing weird happened

they usually get the hint, but this one guy tried to go around him, still rambling about whatever and suna literally turned on his heel and said "come again?" with such unrivaled coldness, his eyes exuding just sheer fucking spite

but like i said, unless the other guy is asking for it, he's not the type to start a direct confrontation

will take you by the hand and leave without much thought because he simply doesn't have the time for that shit

he might seem grumpy afterwards but a couple of soft kisses usually do the trick

soft kisses which are followed by a breathless make out session with you on his kitchen counter because he still wants you to know you're only his

Kuroo Tetsurou

this little bitch

never gets jealous

and i mean never

once pretended he was jealous just to make you feel better (??? his logic? unparalleled) but once you found out you beat his ass

loves it when you get jealous though (he thinks it's cute)

sometimes he does get insecure, but he shows it in an unusual way

like if you've been talking to someone, smiling at your phone for a while he'll just get up and randomly do a couple puhs-ups, start flexing his muscles and shit

all while you're looking at him like,,

"babe, what are you doing"

"oh i didn't think you'd notice me there. since you're on your damn phone all day"

"...are you my mom?"

nah he'll be fine (will steal your phone though)

also it's the funniest thing when he sees someone trying to flirt with you

he will literally walk over there, introduce himself (not mentioning he's your boyfriend) and act really interested in the conversation

he plays this game where he tries to see how long will it take the guy to realise you two are together (longest time: 24 minutes, record holder: yahaba shigeru)

whenever the guy asks you something he will interrupt you and answer for himself as if the guy were flirting with him

"so, like what do you do in your free time?"

"not mu-"

"oh i love taking long walks on the beach, especially during sunsets. i really think it is healthy for the mind and the soul, not to mention quite romantic too. don't you too love sunsets, kevin?"

at one point kevin will have had enough of it

"i was talking to y/n alone here"

"aw don't worry, you're not bothering me"

he is such a pain in the ass

why can't he just be normal

Iwaizumi Hajime

rational, mature, i love him

seriously, he is the bestest boy and he will treat you so well because he trusts you and respects your friendship with other guys as well

but on those rare occasions when he does get jealous,, oh boy

first of all, the PDA skyrockets, he has to have his arm around you at all times - around your shoulder? on your waist? in your backpocket? his hand's been there done that

not in any way possesive but will be really annoying unless you give him your full undivided attention that day

he lets himself be selfish a bit, after all he is your boyfriend he can have you all to himself for a day, right?

jealous sex with him? better prepare a wheelchair cause you want be able to walk straight tomorrow

sees a boy trying to flirt with you? tries not to make a scene but absolutely will throw the first punch if he needs to

one day he was having a particularly rough time at practice and all he wanted to do was lose himself in your arms and fall asleep to the feeling your fingertips tangled in his hair

and then he saw this?? guy? (the audacity!) laughing with you after telling some dumb joke and let me tell you - iwaizumi wasn't having any of it

he came up to you from behind, wrapped his arms around your waist and planted a small kiss on the crook of your neck

"when are we going home, love?"

and he gives him the calmest yet most fear inducing stare from behind you

and suddenly the pattern on poor boy's pants starts to look awful lot like piss stain

it is actually kinda hot how one single look from him can cause such a reaction

"he was just asking about english homework babe"

"yeah that's what they all say"

Bokuto Koutarou

gets jealous so so easily

it is actually fascinating

will get mad at otome games

"what does jumin han have that i don't???"

god forbid you pay attention to your pet more than him (btw you have a golden retriever and his name is bean)

you're sitting on the couch cuddling with your dog, scratching his ears, ruffling his fur and all that, and there he is, your clingy boyfriend, snuggling right next to you, demanding you play with his hair too

so dramatic

"you smiled at him... the way you used to smile at me..."

"bokuto, he's a dog"

the only guy he trusts 100% to be around you is akaashi, even kuroo is on thin ice

but him and akaashi are something else, one time you three had a sleepover and you felt like you were the third wheel

will act like a tough serious boyfriend in front of others, especially your other guy friends but in reality will look for affection immediately after

oh while we're at it - jealous bokuto kisses? are the best kisses

will also force you to wear one of his shirts for the rest of the day

my poor man is so touch starved so when he feels insecure or jealous he will look for comfort in things like holding your hand, nuzzling your neck or giving forehead kisses

but later that day, when you two are sitting on the couch cuddling he will quietly ask you something along the lines of "you still think i'm pretty, right?"

you can feel him all over you - his hands are creeping down your waist, he's pulling you in, deepening the kiss until all you can see, think and feel is him

he wants to show you exactly how much he wants you and what you were missing out on while you weren't paying attention to him

and it shocks you for a moment because you didn't realise just how much that one short moment of jealousy actually stayed with him

you have to reassure him he's the most beautiful boy you have ever met, and not only that, but also the funniest and the most caring person as well, and that you would never leave his side no matter what happened

and as much as he loves getting praised he always gets embarrassed, so he just smiles in return, but he is also happy to know you're there for him and you don't think he is too much

Kenma Kozume

it depends on his mood honestly

sometimes he doesn't mind it even if the other guy is flirting with you and sometimes will get pissy if you smile at the cashier

but when this boy gets really jealous oh my GOD

he is just like bokuto if not worse; he just hides it so well

one time you went grocery shopping with him and spent the entire time texting your friend who had just told you she was visiting your city

and he got so offended

you didn't even notice it until later that day when you came home and he suddenly refused to cuddle with you

silent treatment

lifts his nose and ignores you, only giving you dirty side glances from under the eye

such a massive sense of pride in those 170 cm even oikawa would be impressed

in my country there's a saying "it's in the smallest bottle that the poison lies" and honestly? yeah

at some point you realise why he's acting like that and you start teasing him

"i am not jealous i am just mildly irritated" is the only thing he deems necessary to say before going back to being unnecessarily pissed

he reminds you of an angry cat

it's kind of amusing seeing him like this but you were also getting real tired of his shit

don't even try bribing him (you tried buying him over with a ps5 but he just looked at you unimpressed, disgusted that you think so low of him)

the only thing he will accept is a sincere apology

if it's sincere or not is up to him to decide, obviously

which can lead to quite some bickering

will try to get you to beg but please have dignity, if you do it once he will make you do it every time

yeah generally a lttle shit but his kisses after making up are just as eager as yours so

[innocentcurse]

It meant a lot to Floyd to know that Copper remembered him; Floyd wasn't the most insecure person, but that didn't mean that he felt confident about being memorable. Having grown up in his strange carnival, it was easy for him to forget just how much of a stand out memory it could be to others, and even while they had met many times outside of the carnival environment, Floyd still didn't want to assume that he had been an important memory in any way for Copper.

"Oh I can definitely believe it too," he laughed, feeling much more relaxed and comfortable now that he knew for sure that they were on the same page and both glad to reunite. "I had a feeling I'd be seeing you again, it's like we'll never escape each other," despite the way that the words he spoke could potentially sound menacing or even threatening in a way, his tone and his bright smile were evidence of the fact that Floyd thought it was a happy occurrence.

To be embraced in a friendly hug made Floyd feel all the more comfortable. Sometimes, despite his family in Cardinal Hill, Floyd felt so far from home, and he almost hadn't realised just how badly he had needed to find someone like Copper in his life again. Naturally, Floyd hugged his friend back more than happily.

"Right? I mean, I'm not really one to believe in stuff like fate, but sometime you can't argue against it," he laughed. How else could he explain the frequent and always unplanned reunions he had with Copper? "Some friendships are just meant to be, no matter what happens, I guess," he concluded, a happy conclusion. "That sounds great," ever enthusiastic about food, Floyd was always interested in some pie.

"I live here now! I've actually been here for about..." he cocked his head to the side as he recalled the time that had passed. "Wow, I think it's been about four years now," he told Copper. "My grandmother actually lives here, that's why we're here. I got cochlears," he told Copper excitedly, lifting his shaggy hair so that his friend could see the hearing contraption on his head. "Which cost more than a pretty penny, so we moved in with my grandmother," he wasn't ashamed of the fact that they had to ask for help from family to get through the tough financial time; in fact, Floyd felt blessed that he had the privilege to do so. "So this time I can actually hear you more, which is... well I don't think I'll ever get used to having some hearing back."

There were a lot of people in the crowd at Pumpkin Palooza, but Copper was having too good of a time to be worried about that. It also helped that he was on his second pumpkin ale (though he intended to take a break after this one). Taking another sip, Copper continued to wander with a smile on his face, and it was as he was casually debating entering the pie eating contest (was it really worth ruining pumpkin pie for himself if he got sick?) when it happened. Copper had glanced back over his shoulder - an automatic thing he didn't even consciously do sometimes - when he saw someone he recognized, and he turned toward him, breaking into a wide smile. "Floyd? Holy shit!" Copper exclaimed, his smile impossibly growing even bigger. "I can't believe you're here! Well actually...in a weird way, I can believe it. And of course I remember you!"

Yes, it was kind of wild to Copper that he had run into Floyd on the other side of the country from their home state, but really that had been the nature of his relationship with the man from the start. After first seeing Floyd at his family's carnival, Copper had always found himself running into the other man. The first couple of times, he had been surprised, but eventually it happened enough that Copper just began to expect it, laughing with the man each time. Sometimes they'd just have a passing conversation, but other times they'd go get coffee or hang out, catching up like old friends (and at this point that's what it felt like they were to Copper). "Of course I remember you," Copper replied, though he realized it had been awhile since their last encounter - they had become less frequent when Copper had gone to Brown, and then he'd become something of a recluse after Damon had died. But Copper remembered Floyd, and not just because he was handsome; it just felt serendipitous that they always ran into each other, and that made it stick out in Copper's mind. "Come here," he said, pulling Floyd into a hug, a firm one, patting the man's back happily. Copper was genuinely glad to see his old friend.

When he pulled back from the hug, Copper took a moment just to take the sight of the other man in, that same huge smile still on his face. "It's...I mean I can't get over that you're here. Now it definitely seems like we're fated to be friends. Why else would we always be running into each other, even on the other side of the country. Come on, let's get some pie and catch up." As they walked together, Copper asked, "So are you just visiting Cardinal Hill, or do you live here now?" He knew that Floyd's family's carnival was no longer, but he didn't know what they were doing now.

[starryevermore]

peachy keen: the new guy (1) ✧ colin shea, mickey henry, jake jensen, & ransom drysdale

peachy keen ✧ a colin shea, mickey henry, jake jensen, & ransom drysdale anthology | ao3

pairing: colin shea x fem!reader x mickey henry x jake jensen x ransom drydale; andy barber x fem!reader (one-sided) 

summary: you were used to life with your boys. but life decided to throw you a curveball. 

word count: 1,031

warnings?: honestly just a lot of talking about blowjobs, kind of slut shaming, ransom’s a bit of a dick, pet name (peaches), not proofread. 

note: this is more of an anthology than a series. every part exists in the same universe, but parts can be read in any particular order. there is no set update schedule for this; new parts come whenever they come.

Sometimes—most of the time—you wanted to kill your boys. You loved them half to death, but you were almost 100% certain that at least one of them had been dropped on their head when they were a kid. Or maybe last week. You were pretty sure that Mickey and Colin accidentally dropped Jake when he was attempting to crowd surf at the last party they threw. That had been a fun trip to the emergency room. Now you were dealing with two boys who insisted that every day should be a party, one boy that was recovering from a mild concussion, and another boy that was soon to move in and had already proven to be an absolute menace. 

“Mickey, you better put away that DJ equipment right now or, I swear to god, I will shove it up your fucking ass,” you snapped, watching as he began to set up for yet another party. “Jake’s still recovering from y’all’s last stunt.”

“Oh, c’mon, peaches, I’ll keep it down,” he swore. You were sure if you looked behind his back, you’d see his fingers crossed. 

“Put the equipment away now, or I won’t suck your dick until Jake’s fully recovered.”

Mickey stared at you in the same way a child who’s been caught with a hand in the cookie jar would look at the parent who caught him. “But that’s not gonna be for weeks!”

“Hm, something to consider then.”

“Wait, if we’re punishing Mick, can my dick still be sucked?” Jake asked, his head popping up as he pushed himself into a sitting position on the couch. 

A smile curled across your face as you walked over to Jake, climbing onto his lap, pushing his shoulders down so he was laying down again. His hands grasped at your lips, squeezing you tight. You leaned down, your lips brushing against his lips before trailing down to his jaw, leaving a trail of kisses behind. “Baby boy, you know you can have me any way you want me.”

“If you keep spoiling him like that, I don’t think he’s ever going to recover,” Colin laughed from his seat in the nearby recliner. 

You raised up, shooting a glare his way. “You don’t get a say in how I decide to take care of Jakey when you’re half of the reason he’s hurt.”

Jake turned his head the best he could in the position he was in to look at Colin. “Yeah, you listen to peaches! If she says my daily blowjob is necessary to my healing process, then you just have to deal with it!” he said, finishing his sentence with an ever so childish move of sticking his tongue out. 

“Maybe I’ll go give myself a concussion so I can get this preferential treatment,” Colin grumbled. 

“You’ll get no sympathy from me if you do that, pretty boy,” you said. 

“Well, what if I give Colin a concussion? Will he get sympathy blowjobs then?” Mickey asked. 

“I might just have to suck his dick to piss you off, Mick,” you said. “And you definitely wouldn’t be getting your dick suck until after both my boys heal if you did that.”

“So what you’re saying is that this is a lose-lose for me.”

“I mean, if you do nothing, you still got blowjob privileges.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that, peaches?”

“Well, if we’re doing things for the sake of fun, I know it’ll be a lot of fun of tie up a certain naughty boy up and make him see how well I treat my good boys.”

“Now that’s just not fair!” Mickey protested. 

“Listen, if you insist on throwing a party, fine. But just know that Colin’s gonna be the only one touching your dick for the next month or so.”

Mickey’s jaw dropped, his eyes bugging out. Oh, he hates that. Being left out. You were sure that, if he was able to, he’d knock out the walls in all of your bedrooms, buy a California King bed, and just have all of you sleep together comfortably instead of squishing into whoever’s bed you all ended up in any given night. To say that neither you nor Jake would give him the attention he so craved...God, it probably killed him inside. Which was exactly why you said it. His own actions had hurt your baby boy, and while he was undeniably apologetic about hurting Jake, it seemed he hadn’t learned his lesson. And you weren’t about to let that kind of behavior slide. 

For a fleeting moment, the apartment was silent. But, all things must come to an end. 

“Damn, Mickey, I see why you’ve nearly retired the party animal act now. If I had a slut like that at my beck and call, I wouldn’t want to go anywhere either.”

“Don’t call her that!” Colin snapped.

“The fuck did you just say?” Jake said, sitting up and staring at the man who’d just entered the room.

“Listen, man, don’t—” Mickey started. 

“Who the fuck do you are?” you said, staring down the bastard who’d just came in. 

Seriously, who the hell was he? You eyed him. He was tall, perhaps taller than Jake or even Colin. He had a sort of arrogant look in his eye. Hell, he had a sort of arrogant look in his entire body. He stood with his back straight, shoulders back, chin titled upwards. He looked like one of those pompous assholes who’d come into your boss’s firm straight out of Harvard or Yale. The kind of man who just expected everything to be handed him. And, well, if you had to hand anything to him, it was that he at least seemed to have a decent sense of style. Certainly better than Colin’s general lack of clothes or Jake’s cheesy graphic tees or whatever the hell Mickey could throw together. But, dammit, no matter how cozy that cable knit looked, all you wanted to do was slap that damn smirk off of his face. And—

Was that a suitcase? Why the fuck did he have a suitcase?

“Ransom Drysdale.”

“And why the hell are you here?”

“I’m your new roommate.”

[legends-live-in-memories]

Business (Mis)Management

AYO you know the drill. MGI Trope Tussle! 

Fics Masterlist

Timari Oneshot 2.3K words

Summary: 

"Right before her, where her professor usually stood every Tuesday and Thursday, stood a surprise guest lecturer. One problem, though. Marinette hates the guy. She hates him and his stupid well-fitting suit that she dedicated actual blood sweat and tears into making. "

One shot using two prompts for this server event: Day 3:College AU Day 5: "Why'd you do that?" "I- I don't know..."

without further ado: 

It was Tuesday, bright and early at 9:30 am, and Marinette was ready to commit murder. She was sitting in her Intro to Business Management course with her cup of coffee and notepad ready and pencil about to snap in her grip. Right before her, where her professor usually stood every Tuesday and Thursday, stood a surprise guest lecturer. One problem, though. Marinette hates the guy. She hates him and his stupid well-fitting suit that she dedicated actual blood sweat and tears into making. 

Right there, on this awful Tuesday morning, stood one Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne looking all the world like he would rather be anywhere else; stupid rich people were all the same, thinking the world was doing them a favour by letting them grace everyone else with their presence. Marinette also wishes he was anywhere else but life doesn’t work that way. Her actual professor stood off to the side, waxing sonnets about how accomplished the young CEO was and Marinette listened to none of it. Rather, she was silently stewing in her thoughts, lost in how this man became the particularly large thorn in her side.

It was six months ago when she got an email asking for a commission. A commission for the exact three piece suit he was wearing today. He had gotten her contact from another client and his emailed request was perfect and professional. He had asked for the suit, listed all the required measurements and requested any personalizations he wanted. They couldn’t meet for any in-person fittings so it was currently both aggravating and satisfying to see it fit his lean figure so perfectly. The drama didn’t start, however, until two weeks after, when Marinette had sent the finished product to the designated address. While Marinette isn’t one for showboating and bragging about her capabilities, it grinds her teeth when others try to talk down on her skills. 

When Marinette had sent off the suit, and emailed the man that the package was to be expected within three business days, she got a rather crude email in response, labeling her work as ‘tacky’ and a ‘pathetic attempt at wiggling her way into his family’s pockets.’ That had her doubletaking at the sender, making sure it wasn’t some spam mail that she was reading. Nope, that’s his email right there. Marinette remembered a particular twitch she had in her eye the first time she read that email. It was one thing to be ungrateful of a finished product, Marinette was no stranger to harsh critiques and pieces that worked better on paper than as actualized designs, but the accusation of being a gold-digger set off warning bells that threw her back into the tenth grade where she had battles with a rich blonde with daddy issues. At least he had paid her in advance for the suit. Marinette would have been perfectly fine with silently cutting all ties with Mr. Wayne right then and there, and putting the whole ordeal behind her, until he decided that a crassly worded email wasn’t enough. No. He felt compelled to go on national television and insult her suit for everyone to hear. Marinette remembers his words perfectly, as if they were ingrained in her memory forever.

“You’ve seen the suits I’ve worn, I look like I escaped my own funeral. I’ve tried local, and outsourcing designers and tailors and nothing matches my taste. I’m only twenty-three and I dress like I’ve gone through my third divorce—”Marinette had turned off the television to shamelessly cry into her pillow. She couldn’t bear to hear him insult her design over the poorly timed laughs of the ‘live-studio audience’ that particular interview was filmed in front of. 

After that, Marinette had reaffirmed her conclusion that all rich people were assholes best left to their own privileged bubble. 

A solid clap snapped her attention back to the front of the lecture hall, eyes narrowing at the man by the podium. The presentation pulled up on the smart board indicated that he was going to be speaking to them about professionalism and how to engage in buyer-seller conversations. Oh that was bloody perfect. What did this guy know about any of those things? 

The time was 9:45 exactly when the guy decided to start his presentation. 

“Hello, everyone,” his voice was smooth and firm, not wavering while speaking before a hall filled with two hundred students. “My name is Timothy Drake-Wayne but you all can just call me Tim. It’s lovely to meet all of you and I’m honoured to be here speaking for you today.” 

Cue a very predictable, very standard, very boring introduction. Marinette was beginning to tune out at this point.

“To start off this presentation, I would like to talk about misunderstandings in professional conversations.” He started walking across the front of the room. Slow and methodical; he knew he had all eyes on him and he was taking full advantage of it. Marinette wanted to gag. “Additionally, I want to discuss how to avoid them, and what to do if miscommunication occurs.”

Blah, blah blahblah. Marinette didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

“To start off, I’m going to talk about a situation I found myself in not too long ago.” That caught her attention. “It’s funny now and makes for great dinner conversation but not so much when it had happened. How many of you siblings?”

He paused and surveyed the room. His eyes passed over Marinette and for a brief second she thought he focused on her for a blink longer than necessary. She banished the thought from her mind; she didn’t have siblings so he had no reason to notice her.  

“Now,” he continued, “how many of you have siblings who aren’t afraid to sabotage your work when they’re mad at you?” 

Another pause as some of the students lowered their hands. Some were unsure and Marinette had a weird feeling in her gut. Her instincts were screaming at her but she couldn’t figure out why.

“Don’t feel shy,” the guy raised his hand to join the students, “my younger brother is a menace who can and has attempted to sabotage my business. Just recently in fact.”

Marinette looked around the room to see quite a few surprised faces. She was vaguely familiar with the Wayne family and remembered a few details about the youngest child. He was a menace, that’s for sure. As egotistical as any thirteen year old can be. That feeling in her gut returned with vigor. She was suddenly very alert and eager, almost desperate, to figure out how the ankle biter had sabotaged this man.

“About six months ago my brothers and I were butting heads as usual. My sister was enjoying everything while shit hit the fan from a safe distance. I’m not going to go into much details.” He’s arms were waving animatedly as he spoke. It was quite endearing. NO. Bad thoughts, Marinette. “The point of all this is that I pissed my younger brother off somehow. I don’t know, maybe I breathed too hard on his cat or something.” That got a laugh out of the students except Marinette. Six months. He said his brother had sabotaged him around six months ago. That gut feeling had turned her stomach into a pit, eating away at her nerves.

“My brother had hacked into my email and sent absolutely horrible replies to everyone that was marked as important in my contacts in a poor attempt at pretending to be me. Of course, most of those contacts work at Wayne Enterprises. It took a courtesy email explaining the mishap and a personal visit with an apology gift to clear the air. Now for the contacts who don’t work at Wayne E, that’s where it gets tricky.”

Marinette was holding her breath, wishing for this day to already be over and for the ground to open and swallow her whole. She both hoped she was and wasn’t wrong. On the one hand, it meant that he was truly that harsh in replying to her and she wasn’t among the contacts his brother emailed, justifying her slowly dwindling fury. On the other more plausible hand, it meant that he wasn’t responsible for the crude email. It still didn’t explain the interview he did but…but she never did watch the entire thing. She had started watching the interview already expecting him to tear her down. He never referenced her suit by any specifics before she had changed the channel. That probably meant that she had poorly misjudged him. But she would have been contacted in some way if she was among those people and she hadn’t. So he was still an ass to her. Right? 

“For those who I couldn’t visit in person,” Oh god, he was still speaking. “I sent them more personal emails compared to what I sent the employees. That was really the most I could do and I hoped for the best. I got a reply from most; they were rather understanding, actually, some even claiming that their own siblings would do something like that. It went over pretty well.” He suddenly had this forlorn look as he rubbed his hands absentmindedly against the suit. 

“While I was lucky that most of my contacts were understanding, one important thing to be prepared for is people who won’t be that forgiving. Do you see this suit I’m wearing? I love this suit. I will absolutely get buried in this suit. I had commissioned and received it just before the email fiasco and I, regrettably, never got a response when I tried to both thank and apologize to them. My brother had used my email to accuse them of being a gold-digger of all things. I would have loved to commission them again but it looks like my brother burned that bridge permanently.”

What? No. That’s not true and Marinette felt hot rage flare up in her. Was he really lying to try and save face right now? She felt the strong urge to interrupt him. To march down those steps and let him know exactly how she felt about him lying about emailing her to apologize. But, a treacherous hopeful part of herself whispered to her, she had to be sure. She had to have irrefutable proof that she wasn’t one of the victims to his rabid brother and he was just an ass. 

She couldn’t get to her phone fast enough. She searched for all the emails the two had exchanged, finding the most recent to be his harsh email. She had another niggling feeling, however, and decided to check her spam mail. 

Marinette has most definitely stopped breathing. 

Right there, in bold letters sat a Wayne Enterprises email waiting to be opened and read. She couldn’t bring herself to click it open, ice flooding her veins, freezing her in her seat. She actually misread the situation. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to bash her head on the table and grovel for forgiveness from this very handsome man. She didn’t do any of this, however, managing some degree of composure and sat through the remainder of his presentation. She would bet her left leg it was the best presentation she would have ever heard but she couldn’t recall a single word of it from that point on; too busy digging her own grave and writing her own eulogy. She could never show her face around Gotham again. Her life was ruined.

The sounds of people packing up had her crawling herself out of her own head. She mechanically packed her things up, gazing pathetically at her blank notebook. She made her way down the steps, eyeing the gaggle of students surrounding Marinette’s biggest missed opportunity to date. She was just about to walk straight out the door, resigning herself to her fate when she made a hasty decision. She turned to the dwindling crowd and marched like a woman on a mission. She wormed her away to stand directly in Tim’s line of sight and she braced herself for possibly her dumbest idea yet. She listened to the conversation going on and as soon as it appeared she was not going to interrupt anyone, she shot her hand out and grabbed him by his suit. The act caught everyone’s attention but before she could chicken out, she turned to leave and pulled the businessman along with her, leaving stunned silence behind. 

They didn’t get far out the door when he yanked her arm off him, stopping them in their tracks. He looked angry, confused but also very put out at her. Fair. 

“Why’d you do that?” 

“I— I don’t know.” His glare was intense. Marinette felt her face flush and her knees weaken. She wanted to make things right but it seemed she was only making things worse. She took a breath. Focus, she reminded herself. She just needed to address one problem at a time. “I mean, I do know why but I wasn’t supposed to do it like that. I just needed your attention.”

“Well now you have it. So what do you want?”

“I wanted to apologize. Not about dragging you out here. Yet. But for accidentally ignoring your apology email.” One of his eyebrows rose incredulously as she kept talking, but she ignored it and powered on. “It was, for some reason, in my spam mail and I didn’t see it. But if it’s any consolation, I would love it if you commissioned me for another suit. Or anything else really.” 

“Pardon?” He didn’t believe her, or was at least confused by her, that much she could tell.

“You suit. I made it. Here, look.” She turned her phone screen, showing him their conversations in her emails. At his slightly more relaxed posture she continued speaking. “I’m glad you like the suit.”

“Huh.”

“Also I’m sorry for dragging you out here.” She had curled her shoulders into her ears, still holding her phone out like an idiot. His chuckle in response eased her nerves only slightly. He had a cute laugh. And he was cute too. Bad thoughts! Stop getting distracted!

“Okay, I’ll accept your apology if you accept mine.” The carefree smile he threw at her was disarming. “And I would love to talk more about working with you, Ms. Cheng.”

“Marinette, please, Mr. Wayne.” She could breathe easier now, no longer on the verge of catastrophizing. “If you want to get started as early as possible, I’m free for an early lunch right now.”

“Only if you call me Tim. And lunch sounds great actually. I know a great bistro off campus if you will let me escort you.” He really needed to stop smiling at her like that. Her heart couldn’t take it.

“Sounds wonderful. Lead the way.” He turned and offered her his arm. She was slow to move, still faintly caught in the emotional whiplash of the morning. Her gentle grip on his bicep was enough for her to feel the muscle definition under the suit. It pleasantly surprised her but not nearly as much as his next words.

“Perfect. It’s a date.”

What?

[lovecinnatwist]

How would you go about writing omega Jason with Alpha Dick?

Man oh man- Omega!Jason with Alpha!Dick is always such a bop.

It depends really! I see so many fics with insecure Jason thinking Dick is too good for him which is nice and definitely in character- but sometimes it makes me crave the other end of the spectrum?

Like a confident, sexy Jason who teases Dick with his scent and body until the alpha wants to implode? I also like the idea of Jason being raised by an Omeganist!Alfred and Omega!Talia to be badass, sassy and sensual. Bras? Suppressants? Painful heats?

Not for Jason Todd!

He embraces his Omega-ninity and it wreaks havoc on Dick's hormones. Dick being a more conservative alpha would definitely find himself overwhelmed but enamored!

Here's something playful with a clumsy Alpha!Dick and confident pack Omega!Jason!

Tiddies Out - JayDick

Tags: Omegaverse, AlphaDick, OmegaJason, Pining, Crack treated Seriously, Lactating, Heat Cycles, Omega Tim, Alpha Bruce, Pup Damian- Just Dick being an obvious pining idiot and Jason enjoying his reactions-

Jason doesn’t mind being an omega. How could he when it’s one of the superior options? While Alpha’s often lost themselves to aggression during rutting season and beta’s scrambled to placate them- Omega’s got to sit back and watch the show.

Being the object of an alpha’s fascination has many perks. First off? The gifts. Lavish offerings make their way to him with little to no effort. Weaponry from Talia, Expensive silks and poisons from Ras, The latest tech from Tim and Bruce. It's an endless parade really. One of the few things that make this more bearable to put up with.

He’s a heavy milker. Always has been.

Maybe it’s from growing up in an abusive household. Perhaps it's in response to being closer to the pack’s pups or hell, maybe his body is just gearing up for the imaginary children it wants to have. Regardless of the reason Jason’s tits are aching.

They seem extra tender tonight. The cold dingy air does little to ease the tension under his armor. He shifts and the way his pads squish under bullet proof chest plates is a pain. He curses and tries to ignore it. Something that’s getting harder as the cotton under his clothing reaches its limit. Tsk- 4 hours his ass. It’s barely been 2 and he’s about to make a mess of his gear.

As annoying as it is. He reluctantly reaches into his kit to get two fresh napkins to change. Other omega’s might be shy to do this in public but Jason has always been more practical about it. Breasts are breasts, no reason to get all crazy about it.

Though it probably didn’t hurt that Jason himself had a nice rack. He knows what the other heroes say about him behind his back. His figure has never been more appreciated than now in his prime. The dip in the pit did wonders at helping him bulk up. Thighs thick, emphasising his trim waist. In the throws of season his ample chest gives him an illusion of an hourglass figure. While some people would say omega’s should be small and dainty, he has yet to meet an alpha or beta who can resist him.

Not to be vain but he is nothing else if not attractive.

He’s got his top half way off when the sound of a near violent thud echoes out in the darkness. The hiss of pain gives away the alpha before his scent can. Jason doesn’t even turn in his direction. Instead he keeps his attention on the sopping pads under the compression shirt. He hisses as the gentle adhesive pulls from his throbbing mamories.

“ You alright over there goldie? “

He gets a groan for an answer. A nicer person would have maybe let the other man know about his current state of undress. Too bad that Jason isn’t exactly known for being ‘nice’. He carefully wraps up one cotton cloth. Once he’s clean and dry, he applies another. It’s quick and easy work. The slight chill does wonders against his flush skin.

The worn form of Nightwing crawls from the side of the building. There’s a pretty good bruise on his cheek Jason is 90% sure that the acrobat had a less than graceful landing. He’s always been weird about nudity. Even back when they mostly had the same parts. He rolls his eyes as the man pointedly tries not to look at him. He can’t help scoffing at the false modesty.

“ Hood. You shouldn’t do this out in the open like this. Anyone could see you. “

Everyone knows Jason is an omega, by extension that means Red Hood. It’s one of the reasons why his territory is so well protected. No one wants to cross an omega. While the fangs in their mouths were now more for scruffing kits, no one had forgotten the days when they were for hunting prey and tearing out throats.

He would flash his at Dick but he’s wearing his helmet and would probably just looks stupid. He manages to get the other pad off. It’s absolutely drenched. His left teet is definitely working harder than the right. The sheer weight of the cotton makes a loud squelch as it hits the little plastic bag at his feet.

He snorts. “ And you know what they’d say N? Best tits in Gotham. “

The alpha’s face is anything but amused. The furrow of his brow and spike in his scent is territorial and aggressive. It’s laughable really considering the fact that between the two of them, Jason is actually the one in charge of protecting the pack. It’s all a part of being the lead omega.

Whether Bruce or Dick want to accept it or not.

“ Stop objectifying yourself like that. “

Jason enjoys the feeling of being clean and dry as he gets the other cotton adhesive on. It’s a welcome sensation. Especially when he straightens his armor and it’s a little less chafing and tight.

“ It’s only objectication if I say I’m only a nice pair of tits Wing. Luckily I’ve got a nice set of thighs too.“

He pays Dick no mind as he stands and packs away his used pads to be thrown away later. He might have to call it an early night at the rate. With the way fall is quickly approaching his heat is just dying to make an appearance. Perhaps he could get away with offering himself to the foster system. With the amount of milk he’s making now it would be better for the pups who need it to benefit instead of it all going to the trash.

“ Hood! “ The sound is a scandalized growl. It’s funny enough that Jason throws his head back and laughs free and clear. With the voice modulator it’s mean and menacing. Amusement bubbles in his chest. He can’t help taking off his helmet so that Dick can take in just how wide his smile is.

“ Sorry Wing. I’m a pretty girl. What can I say? “

Talia is nothing but progressive. While many omega’s in the west suffer from low self esteem. Jason learned his worth quickly. Confidence is beauty. The more one loves themselves, adores them selves and takes time to know themselves the more they blossom. It’s a deep healing that not everyone gets to understand. A privilege for a few chosen omegas. He cocks his head and smiles and see’s the exact moment Dick starts losing his footing in the conversation.

The alpha is tongue tied.

“ That’s not what I mean and you know it Hood. “

Jason shrugs. Once he’s got his stuff away he’s ready to run roofs and actually get some work done.

“ Sorry Goldie. It’s 2021 and haven’t you heard? Red Hood says free the tiddies. “

He doesn’t wait for a response as he makes a running start towards the edge of the building. It’s always such a thrill. He tucks a bit to clear the gap. The moment his legs touch the concrete the sound is silent despite the bulk of his frame. Dick calls after him but he loses the words in the wind. Laughter bubbles up in his throat. He wouldn’t be a prude just because his family wanted to be sexually repressed more than they wanted to be happy.

Dick doesn’t try to catch up with him and Jason finishes the night patrolling with Tim and Stephanie.

He manages to get an entire three hours out of the next set of pads. Instead of changing out in the open he accepts Alfred’s invitation back at the manor for a warm bath and cookies. Tim stares at his chest while Jason gets himself decent.

Tim is a gorgeous omega, with a slender petite frame and porcelain doll-like features. He always seems to get shy in the presence of Jason’s more unconventional curves.

Jason knows what low self esteem looks like. The younger omega wears it no matter how much bravo he tries to exude. Jason brushes against him briefly and lightly. His usual fragrance is marshmellowy from the sweetness of milk that clings to it.

There’s an immediate blush as Tim ducks away. Clearly he’s embarrassed from being caught. Though in reality where is the shame in a little boob appreciation amongst omegas?

“ You know Timmy, you gotta stop wearing bras. Maybe if you show a glimpse of those pretty pink nips Kon would take the hint. “

Tim goes red from his ears to his chest. Jason can practically see the steam coming from his ears. He slaps his hands over his petite breast quick enough to hurt. Jason wants to let him scamper off but instead he presses into his space even more. Long gone is the perfume of pup, now that Tim has come fully into his omega hood. Every day his scent leans more and more towards caramel and sugar.

“ Uhg you’re such a jerk. “

Tim tries to dodge out of his hold but Jason gets him anyway. The omega yelps and Jason ducks him right between each swollen peck. They are red and tender from patrol. He hasn’t put on new pads yet so some milk beads at his nipples. The little shriek Tim lets out is hilarious.

“ You’re going to get milk in my hair! Jason stop- God you suck- “

The omega fights and Jason lets him go before the two actually get into it. It’s light and playful. Well for the most part. Tim gets some milk on his face and the teen honest to God looks terrified. He curses all the way to the shower stall to take another quick bath all while Jason cackles at his misfortune.

“ I swear to God, when I start milking I'm going to get you back Ten fold! “

Jason rolls his eyes. As if.The last thing Jason’s afraid of is milk. It’s a natural thing. God everyone in this pack is repressed.

“ We’ll see about that Timberella! “

The omega hisses and Jason has to hold back a laugh as he leaves the shower. He’s so light and high from the interaction that he completely for gos a shirt. Not that he really wants to wear one. Not with how milk heavy and tender his chest is. Alfred’s always been pretty cool about it too. Being from the 60’s and all that jazz.

Jason maybe gets half way through the cave before the sound of metal crashing draws his attention. Dick walks cleanly into one of the metal tables in the middle of the lab space, knocking over tools and gadgets.

Bruce is thoroughly unimpressed from where he’s helping Damian stretch before bed. He’s in half of his costume, suppressors and scent blockers gone. The sheer disappointment in Damian’s gaze is astonishing.

“ Richard, please control yourself. “

The alpha looks like a deer caught in headlights, his mortification absolutely palpable in the air.

Jason does catch his eyes on his chest though. He smirks and sees the moment horror grows in those bright blue eyes. Instead of heading towards the stairs he decides to circle back towards the group.

Bruce chuffs from his position on the floor. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing but does tilt towards him in reverence. It’s been the biggest change in their dynamic. Bruce finally learning to respect Jason as not only a pack mate, but the pack omega. He greets him with a scenting.

Unlike Dick the alpha seems to pay little attention to his milking.

Damian’s puppy nose twitches as he leans towards him. It makes his heart flutter really. While Damian would never ask, Jason has thought of offering his breast many times. While Technically too old for it, they’ve all done their fair share of growing up too quickly. Something that Jason Laments as well as appreciates.

He scents Damian more thoroughly than Bruce, making him bristle. The boy tries to move out of his hold, hands swatting him away.

“ Todd cease your pestering immediately! If I smell of milk my peers will assume I still breastfeed. “

Jason snorts and pulls back from the prickly pup. Bruce gets a stupid fond look on his face and for a brief moment he feels it echoing on his lips.

“ And what’s wrong with that? If your pack omega is milking of course as a pup you’re welcome to it. “

Damian’s green eyes widen a fraction. His mouth opens in disbelief. Clearly, Damian in fact did not know that. Bruce stares as well, his scent turning into a sweet blend of ‘love-admiration-awe’. It draws a shiver up Jason’s spine. The tender mix of affection from his pack blankets over him like a net of spun sugar.

Jason doesn’t know why he feels drawn to look at Dick. The alpha hasn’t said anything in the past minute. He cuts his gaze to the stone still alpha and his heart flutters in excitement. The looks of jealousy and want is so strong that his intentions sparkle clear like aquamarine in shallow ocean waters.

The alpha is so much more honest when he thinks Jason isn’t looking.

He grins at Dick.

The alpha immediately shrinks in shame and embarrassment.

“ And of course any alpha spending my heat with me. “

[ambivalentmarvel]

happy birthday amy @thinkingisadangerouspastime!!!! i’m a day late, but i love you!! thank you for all your fic snippets, fielding my ramblings, and sending me ffwf asks even though i’m not always good at responding to them asdfasdf. enjoy some domestic sambucky (+ aj and cass) being annoying and also in love at the grocery store.

sweeter than us

“For the last time, why do we need the app when I have perfectly good coupons right here?” Sam asks in a grocery store aisle, holding up his binder clip stuffed with deals cut out of the newspaper.

“Babe, quick question.”

“Shoot,” Sam challenges, his eyebrows raised in a way that should be inquisitive but is mostly just irritated. Vaguely. Bucky is nothing if not talented at pushing Sam’s buttons, particularly when they’ve both chosen something to argue about for the hell of it, so he’s gotten familiar with the look.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the old man here?”

Sam glares. AJ and Cass stand off to the side, debating what color the frosting on the cake should be. Sam is still holding out the binder clip between them, and with the way his fingers clench it, Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if he manages to turn it into a weapon or, at the very least, a projectile; he’s seen people do more with less. “You, James Buchanan Barnes, are a major pain in the ass.”

“I’m your pain in the ass. Also, the app can price match.”

A vein in Sam’s temple throbs dangerously. Bucky, frankly, doesn’t understand why his reliance on modern technology is such an inconvenience for him. If everyone in the 21st century carries around tiny computers, shouldn’t they use them? Sam is sucking in a breath and Bucky is preparing to continue his defense of his grocery shopping app when AJ speaks up: “Uncle Sam, we’re getting stuff for chocolate cake, right?”

Sam shoots Bucky a look to say this isn’t over, but he turns to face his nephew. “Hell yeah we are.”

Cass frowns. “Mom says you’re not supposed to cuss around us.”

“Your mom is also getting a chocolate cake when everyone knows vanilla is the better flavor,” Sam points out. “Besides,” he winks, which makes both AJ and Cass grin conspiratorially, “are you guys gonna’ tell her?”

“Hell no!” they chorus, and Sam’s vein is doing that thing again.

“Now, wait a second—”

Bucky lets him chew them out. They’re up early getting ingredients for a cake and breakfast in bed for Sarah, seeing as it’s her birthday, and while he suspected bringing AJ and Cass along might not help their productivity any, it is endearing to see his boyfriend around them.

Bucky eyes their cart. Going to the grocery store with a big family—and somehow, Bucky has one of those now—inevitably means, as Bucky has learned, picking up things you didn’t plan on getting. They’re not doing too bad this time around, but lunch meat, goldfish, cantaloupe, chicken nuggets, and ice cream, among other things, are definitely not the ingredients they came for.

“—just because I say something doesn’t mean you get to say it!”

“Why not?” AJ grouses. “That’s not fair.”

“I’m an adult. You two are not.”

“But—”

“And I’m Captain America. Comes with special privileges.”

Bucky’s pleased he tuned in just in time to hear Sam pull the superhero card on his nephews. The boys glance at him, maybe to see if he’ll jump ship and side with them to irk Sam, but he prioritizes staying in Sarah’s good graces over bothering his boyfriend. Bucky shrugs. “I don’t know what you guys want me to say—I’m a super-soldier. The two of us get shared benefits.”

“Shared benefits,” Cass mocks under his breath, distorting the words into a higher pitch. Bucky chooses to let that one go, as does Sam.

“Do we have everything we need yet?” Sam asks, effectively distracting the boys. “We were down to more cocoa powder, oil, and powdered sugar for the icing, right?” 

“And sprinkles!” Cass interjects while AJ skitters to the back of their group.

Sam shakes his head. “We already have sprinkles at the house, bud.”

Cass ignores him, going to a shelf, standing on his tip-toes, and reaching for an admittedly oversized container. “But these are yellow. And sparkly. And yellow is Mom’s favorite color!”

He makes a good point. However, Bucky can see that Sam isn’t convinced, and he has to be the boys’ uncle’s cool boyfriend somehow. He leans in, pecking Sam on the lips. “Come on, babe, it’ll be a good touch. And they’re sparkly,” he reiterates.

Sam turns to look Bucky in the eye, his expression equal parts exasperated and fond. “You’re a menace, you know that?”

Bucky holds up his hands placatingly. “I live to serve. You should too, Captain Ameri—”

Sam tugs him in for a kiss by his collar to cut him off, and Bucky’s vaguely aware, through the haze of appreciating that a) he has a boyfriend b) he loves his boyfriend so fucking much and c) the cake is, honestly, going to look fun with the sprinkles, of AJ and Cass gagging in the background. 

“Gross!” AJ complains. “Grooooss!”

Sam pulls away from the tragically brief kiss rolling his eyes. “That wasn’t even that long,” he points out as he tucks an arm around Bucky’s back. “If you guys want a gross kiss—”

“No!” the boys shout together, and though Bucky and Sam keep grinning and accidentally-on-purpose bumping into each other as they grab the last few things they need, they keep the PDA to a minimum, as their audience has so clearly requested.

It’s not until they’re up to the register that Bucky clocks that his jacket pocket feels suspiciously light, and when he glances around, he finds AJ at the end of the checkout taking deliberately bad selfies on his phone. His mouth drops open because how did a ten-year-old get the drop on him, a seasoned assassin? Sam starts using the contents of his stupid, outdated binder clip. “He got you while you were convincing me about the sprinkles,” he smirks.

Bucky tosses a half-hearted glare toward AJ, but in terms of revenge, it’s nice that he has a lovely, if annoyingly smug, boyfriend to capitalize on. Distracting Sam from scanning the cantaloupe—which he’s getting a discount on, the asshole—Bucky leans in for one more kiss, and while AJ loudly protests, Bucky thinks Sarah’s birthday is off to a pretty great start.

[thedaythealienscame]

i've been writing a lot more recently in short bursts, going between projects. this is something that i finished last night, kind of diving into my character and their one-sided relationship with their "boss." it's kind of all over the place tbh but. who cares.

if it had a title, it'd be "there was something almost soothing in the hard-to-define note of terror in your eye" <- which is pretty long! it's from "i've got the sex" by tmg for character dynamic reasons

only warnings i can think of are like. insecurity, jealousy, vague mentions of alien sex? and the last part is imagining an intimate moment that could be ruined by an easy murder (which could be construed as suicidality?)

--

O-Ren's mat lies on the floor of the generator room, surrounded by a few bits and bobs. Personal belongings that don't actually feel all that personal anymore. (For instance; a literal piece of one of the people who built them, an amulet from home, a book that they're hesitant to touch.) But more important than that, O-Ren is kneeling at the end of the mat on their knees, palms flat on the floor, and praying.

Well, loosely.

They're running over possible scenarios in their head and trying to work their way out of each one. Sometimes with some act of divine interference on IVAN’s part, sometimes not. Sometimes there isn't an out and everything is shit. It depends on how hopeless they’re feeling that hour.

Accompanied by this is a choking, muttering sound. The kind of thing that makes you wonder whether or not someone is chewing gravel next to your ear. A reinforcement of sorts.

It doesn't change anything, though.

Now they have a new burden to take on at the hands of their own poor decision-making. A choice that they shouldn’t have made as lightly as they did, and now it was a piece of them. The Menace had even accompanied them on the ship (even though Hugo had not for a good hour or two), and while they weren’t stressing in the doorway anymore, nothing really changed. And they had messed up with Juno, and now they had to take far more on than they were accustomed to.

It’s just that they don’t like him. The Menace.

His whole demeanour puts them on edge, as much as they would rather it did not (or however intentional it may be). Reminds them of their guardian’s description of a dolphin’s laugh. A privilege, it had been, to be able to even hear that story. And what a regret it is now. It haunts them more than anything they’d ever thought about before.

“A bright, high-pitched sort of thing, yes? Like two sheets of thin iron rubbing against each other so quickly you can hardly see the switch. They talk to each other like that. All bubbly.”

As taboo as it was to leave, they were grateful for everything that their guardian had given them. For everything… but that.

To be honest, they had no idea what would have happened if their head hadn’t been filled with so many different ideas of that sort. Of earth, of mars, of other planets in their own solar system all made up of gas.

And they kind of don’t understand what Hugo has in mind when he sees Kelsi, though she is pretty, something about her grates on the plates around their stomach. Emotion all heavy in its sincerity as it flows through them at a remarkable speed. Some combination of envy and appreciation all at once.

Of course, of course it makes them feel gross. He’s allowed to do whatever he wants.

And he has, in turn, allowed them to do whatever they want. Anytime, they’re allowed to just pack up and leave as if nothing ever happened there. O-Ren could jump ship if they wanted to, or just get lost on purpose and never return. Do something that they would have never dared to do in a thousand lifetimes. Drink and smoke their life away. Let someone take their core like it meant nothing to them. Would it matter? Would he care?

O-Ren, despite their best efforts, really wants Hugo to care.

What would they even be if he didn’t care?

Hours later, they walk out of that little room, regretting a little bit that they don’t house themself with the others. But it just doesn’t seem right. And they don’t want to intrude now, especially now that they’ve come to think of that place as a private little home.

And… during a routine check-in with everyone, it’s all okay.

Nothing is going wrong, people are getting along, everything is okay without the constant rounds of the ship. Whether or not this should be a reason to stop doing so is filed away into the back of O-Ren’s mind for later. It makes them feel a little safer.

(Then grosser, when they exchange pleasantries with Hugo and can barely tear their eyes away from the octopus-like sucker marks that litter his skin. Not that he’d notice. It’s so obviously unintentional as well, like he just… forgot about the marks now that he’s not in the direct presence of the Menace. Wrapping fully around his wrists and forearms and the back of his neck, so perfect in proportion that O-Ren is both upset and insecure all at once for no justifiable reason.)

Even if O-Ren was never given a specific job to work with ever again, they would never be done working in every meaning of the word. There is no “stop” from the specific moment of creation to the end of the universe unless they die somehow. And that’s just something they have to accept.

Not that they know what their job is now that they aren’t hauling bricks.

But a part of it seems to be pacing around the ship until they pass out from exhaustion and a lack of oxygen. And worrying about their crewmates.

(Jealousy is not in the description, it shouldn’t feel as good or righteous as it does.)

IVAN pushes for them to sit down for a little, apparently unphased by the journey that they have ahead of them. And they don’t mind, really. If he’s treating them normally, they must be acting somewhat normally.

(O-Ren, as stupid as the thought is, wants nothing more than to take off their outside face and reveal a hidden little piece of them. One that couldn’t have been seen by anyone since they left their home planet and blasted off into eternal nothingness with only other work to replace it. More fulfilling work, but work nonetheless.)

It's not that they don't like the chatter, but they're not really focused on it. Or much at all, really. They find themself warming Hugo's drink back up without a second thought while nodding along to another beach ramble/argument.

(The idea is dangerous. And if anyone had done the most surface-level research on their people, they would know just how humiliating that can and should be. Best not to lose any more credibility while they're still with Deep Blue.)

It's become such a boring argument over the past couple days, and they can't even bring themself to care about it anymore. If they're going to the beach, who cares?

(Just flash your bosses, O-Ren. Smart.)

Calmly and as quietly as possible, they slip out of the room without so much as a glance going their way. People too wrapped up in each other to care about the outside world in exactly the way that they shouldn't want to be.

Fighting is disruptive and inefficient, to be avoided at all costs. If one has authority over another, the subordinate should allow things to go as the other sees fit. That’s how it’s supposed to be anyway.

O-Ren knows firsthand that nothing is that smooth.

Of course the moment that O-Ren sneaks away, back to their little room they call home, disruptive little thoughts make their presence known in the most distracting way possible. The pieces that make up their outer-face have become oppressive in nature in the short amount of time it took to get from the control room to the engine.

Thick fingers shift the biggest piece up and to the right. It falls on their mat with a gentle thud.

Maybe he’d like it.

More sheets of hard, heavy rock start coming off bit by bit. Slowly revealing an underlayer that would sparkle if it weren’t so dull and entice people if it weren’t so full of holes. Holes that keep them alive and breathing, but holes nonetheless. Ones that would be worth a pretty penny (an even better reason to keep themself under wraps).

Maybe, if he was lonely enough. Or experienced some sort of change of heart. But they’d take it.

They’d cherish any sort of attention on that scale.

It’s such wishful thinking, but they can’t really help it anymore.

O-Ren has, at least, a few hours left to breathe without anyone going looking for them. Which means a few hours before they have to put half their body back on again, but it’ll be so worth it to not feel stifled, at least for the moment.

They take some extra care with the left plates of their outer chest, minding the hole that they have yet to find an opportunity to fill.

Maybe he’d like that too.

The idea could be thrilling, that they’d willingly show off a piece of their most fragile layer. There’s a pretty solid chance that he’d get curious and ask to look (or maybe even reach) inside to see their core. The worst part is that he could probably handle the heat if he did decide to reach inside.

Lay them down on their mat right here, the door locked, far enough away from the main activity that goes on in the ship that no one would know or hear.

Support their head with his hand, maybe…

Or they’d just rest in his lap like it was a pillow, cheek pressed against his stomach (for all that that would be worth). It’d even be easier for Hugo to reach inside and touch the one thing that keeps them alive. Boiling hot and soft in the middle, a core resting right where their diaphragm would be.

All their plates off, resting on the thing that makes up their bed, and O-Ren kneels beside all their pieces that they need to take the time to fix, no matter how intriguing the idea of Hugo noticing and realizing what the meaning behind that is. 

Not that they’ve ever expected much.

What’s even more embarrassing is that they’d love it. They’d love everything and anything that Hugo did as long as it was him. No matter how clinical he was.

If he touched them like he meant it, like they mattered to him, or if it was purely scientific. If he spent most of his time distantly twisting and bending the quartz that made them keep shape inside. Applying pressure to their core to see what they do, to see if they’d ever pull away.

(And the answer would be no, not in a million years. Any survival instincts that may have been drilled into them since creation have gone out the window for a man who doesn’t care all that much as to whether or not they live or die. O-Ren can’t actually tell if that’s a downside or not. It should be, but it kind of isn’t.)

Maybe even if it would kill them. Or if he could try to move it around and see what that would do. 

(But he’d try to be nice enough to them every step of the way, which kind of makes it hurt. He likes them enough to use them as a living shield from his ex, that has to be worth something. This all has to be worth something.)

Hugo’d be nice if O-Ren clung to him, and he’d be nice if they spent the whole session with their hands by their sides, and he’d be nice even if they asked to cover up those sucker-marks by wrapping their fingers around his throat.

Not that he’d agree, ever, but he’d be nice when letting them down.

Only because they made it this far, but it’s a good thought. A thought that sends O-Ren into a slightly safer state of mind.

A sharp rap against the engine room door has O-Ren reeling, trying to decide between staying quiet or rushing to cover themself back up and answer whoever was making their presence known.

Not that they stay, effectively making that decision for them.

If they had a heart, it would be beating out of their chest. Not that it really mattered. Getting caught now would be akin to being caught in underclothes, not that anyone would be thrilled about it, or incredibly happy about it… but a sight better than having something to be caught for.

[alicemitch09writes]

the catastrophic history of us

PAIRING: ryoumen sukuna x reader

SUMMARY: This is a story of two people - one was destined to see all while the other was destined to be all-powerful.

They came from different factions of society, though not entirely different if you compare a humble hut versus the slums.

This is a love story.

But it is not a happy one.

A/N: This is a continuation and sort of prequel to 'written in the stars' which gives light on why exactly Sukuna killed the reader and what he meant by 'waited a thousand years for this'. It's been in my head for a while and was an idea I wanted to try.

From what I've researched, Ryoumen Sukuna is said to hail from royalty while some he was just there, so I kinda wanna explore more on his background and ended up crafting my own. I'm sorry if it's kinda cliche. I ended up using the already existing lore about him, but added a bit of my own to fit the story and the narrative I want.

also available on ao3.

disclaimer: i own NOTHING but the plot.

This is a story of two people - one was destined to see all while the other was destined to be all-powerful.

They came from different factions of society, though not entirely different if you compare a humble hut versus a grandiose palace, a benevolent being versus a power-hungry one, one who dances with the mystic arts versus one who challenges the fates, one royal highness and his royal spiritual advisor, - two very different beings destined to meet, destined to fall together, destined to be together.

This is a love story.

But it is not a happy one.

This is a story of two star-crossed lovers.

But again, to reiterate, this is not a happy story. There is no happy ending here.

Legends speak of a name, so feared and great that just the mention of it sent shivers down the spines of many – young, old, human, curses.

Just the mention of his name was akin to devastation and disaster, killing all forms of life regardless of status.

Ryoumen Sukuna.

Also known as ‘King of Curses’.

Call his name, and you are invoking yourself to a life of damnation, of no return, of death.

However, once upon a time, Ryoumen Sukuna was once a simple man.

A prince to be exact, son to the Great Emperor, heir to the throne, general commander of the royal army, and quite possibly, the strongest warrior in the land.

Once upon a time, Ryoumen Sukuna was a man of great power and privilege.

He could take soldiers with a swift blow of his sword, could conquer lands in a day, with only a swagger down the road that could bring the mightiest men quaking, could overpower just about anyone with only his presence - his menacing and great presence.

Wise beyond his years, versatile in combat, cynical, ambitious, and wicked – these were the traits of the soon-to-be Emperor? How unsettling. The kingdom would no sooner meet its demise and burn into flames than to shine brightly with a ruler with blood and warfare on his mind.

Many had thought so as well, yet did little.

For what can they do against someone who can promise dominion and power? They can all but kneel and acquiesce to his bidding.

He did possess a younger twin brother, but compared to his brother, he was passable at best. The brother doesn't talk much, says very little, but paid close attention to his surroundings, his companions, even to his older brother, whom he admired greatly.

It was sometime during his time as a prince when fate decided to play their hand.

But no one saw it coming.

Save for one.

The Emperor’s royal spiritual adviser, the kingdom’s revered onmyouji known only by the name (Y/N).

"That's quite the look on your pretty face, (Y/N)."

Sighing, the (h/c)-haired woman ever so carefully dipped her brush into the ink well before continuing her writing.

"Oya? No wisecracks this time?" the voice drew near, she could feel his hot breath beside her ear. "Is that any way to speak to your future king?"

Unfazed, she dipped her brush into the well again, careful strokes bleeding into the paper. "Truly not worth his royal highness' time if I even breathe or say a word."

Even without looking, she knows he's smirking. He knows he got what he wanted, ever the child.

Silence filled in. She, continuing on with her scrolls, and he, lazily perched himself awfully close to her side, sliding his gaze from her eyes, her face, to her kimono, to her nimble fingers.

From the first moment he laid eyes on her, he was fascinated by her very being. More so, when she revealed that she was to be the royal onmyouji with the ability to see all. 

Technically, her position was better suited for a man, especially a man from a renowned jujutsu family – for trivial reasons.

However, no man could ever compete with one with an all-seeing eye, with impressive control of her cursed energy other than this woman, this strange woman.

No one else but her.

He would like to think that he became a man no long sooner after their first verbal spat, after their second introduction – having differing ideals and morals, never backing from the other despite their status. He and his twin had just turned 18, a prime age for the king to be. It was what drew them together in the first place.

From the moment their eyes met, he had unwillingly declared this fascinating woman as his and only his.

When she was finished writing, just as she laid her brush aside, a hand slammed on the table. She didn’t flinch, even as the man effortlessly picking her up into his arms. "Surely you must be bored from all that gibberish writing, eh?"

Allowing herself a genial smile, (e/c) eyes alit with life, she draped her arms around his strong shoulders. 

"Must I remind you time and time again that they're readings?" Fingers slipped and carded through his locks, grabbing tufts of hair playfully. Tilting her head, she used her free hand to ghost over his strong jawline. “Your great kingdom would crumble would it not be for said readings. Lives would be lost. Blood will be shed. Your name tarnished and damned-”

"Blah, blah, blah, is all I can hear you say," pushing her against the wall, he welcomed himself between her legs, drawing himself ever so close to her. “Don’t you ever get tired of spouting bullshit?”

“Surely you would know,” she gasped as something hard pressed against her core. “that’s all your mouth is good for: running your filthy mouth.”

He met her smirk with his, hot breath fanning hers. “And here I thought you’d be this docile diviner.” Scoffing, he drew close. “Thank fuck I was wrong.”

Hot lips pressed against hers, just as the ink dried out and the shadows danced in the dark.

"We order you to join forces with us destroy Ryoumen Sukuna."

"I refuse."

Even she can't deny that the man she loved was a danger to everyone, probably to all of humanity. He was quick to be enamored with power, sadistic even in his means to achieve greater feats and exploit his foes.

Eventually, she saw how the man she came to love drastically turned into the cynical, malevolent King of Curses he was.

Mad with power, ambition, and glory, in order to achieve all and more he sought out the dark mystics that made him murder his younger twin brother granting him his grotesque figure - two faces, added appendages, and dark marks littering his body.

It started with a vision. Then came the prophecy.

Overnight, a brother was murdered in cold blood by his own, through his blood spawned the King of Curses.

Many months were soon bathed in more blood as he sought nothing more but destruction and chaos,

In the end, she knew what she had to do, what must be done, what must happen, what was foretold – even if it ends up breaking her heart.

"Could you do it?"

"...I have no choice."

This is it, she thought. The end.

The end of the beginning.

Fire licked throughout the field, soot rising from the ashes, craters, devastation lurked wherever the eye could see. There was even the occasional ice covered in blood, sometimes encasing 

It had been a long, treacherous, arborous, and exhausting battle – sorcerers and Imperial soldiers against fellow sorcerers and curses.

Jujutsu sorcerers – especially the high-ranking ones from esteemed clans, set aside their petty differences for this one battle, to put down the King of Curses.

Ryoumen Sukuna.

It was a hard-earned battle, as Ryoumen Sukuna had with him a rather interesting set of warriors to fend off against them.

But finally, they got him.

In the middle of all this madness and bloodshed, a victor was finally declared.

And it wasn’t him.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!?" He screamed, binding spells forcing him to his knees, his whole body weakened and paralyzed by countless battles and countless spells against him. “(Y/N)!? HOW COULD YOU!?”

She forced herself to hold him down as the sorcerers around her continued their spells.

Amidst it all - the undeniable pain, the humiliation of being pinned, the utter betrayal - Ryoumen Sukuna turned to her and only her, red eyes burning her very being, as though ready to incinerate and devour her on the spot.

At the front line, that’s where she was to be – supposed to be, as she was their leverage to get close to the King of Curses.

She was leverage at best, the one thing that can keep Ryoumen Sukuna down - despite the countless claims that no one and nothing can do so.

"In this life, know that you were always the man I hold closest to my heart, the warmth on a cold winter's day, the joy from a day's tiresome work. There is no one but you, Ryoumen Sukuna," she was openly crying now, uncaring of anyone and anything. "But in this life, we cannot be."

The spell had been cast, paralyzing Sukuna, allowing the rest of the jujutsu sorcerers to attack.

With the final blow, she poured a bit of herself into her final, most powerful spell. Sealing him and vaporizing any memory of her in it, emptying his being until he was but an empty husk.

"YOU BITCH! YOU LIED TO ME!" Despite being in constant pain, his body slowly reddening and wax appearing all over, he found it in himself to spout angrily at her. "WAS EVERYTHING A LIE!?"

Memories upon memories - of their first meeting, their first verbal spat, their next meeting, him cornering into a corner, of their first kiss, of their first night, of their many nights, of promises under the sheets, of eyes searching, of eyes yearning, of eyes hurting - voided one after the other.

"I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU DEAD, YOU FUCKING BITCH!" He doesn't mean it, she tells herself, adding more spells that caused him to scream in even more pain.

"Y-YOU FUCKING BITCH! I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU!" His eyes were blank, regarding her with all the hatred man could possess. "YOU'LL BE THE FIRST PERSON I KILL THE MOMENT I GET BACK!" choking on blood, he feels himself weaken. "I SWEAR IT! I'LL KILL YOU THE FIRST MOMENT I GET!"

A sob escaped her, as much as she tried to swallow it down. To no avail, she cannot fake her remorse, her pain. She knew it was the right thing to do, for the betterment of all – humans and sorcerers, but it cost her so much sorrow and pain.

"Nothing is a lie," she croaked, feeling the last of her energy leave her, tearfully gazing into the eyes of her beloved. "But I have to say goodbye."

And just like that, the King of Curses was no more.

And when the fighting was over, the Seer vanished without a trace.

It came abruptly.

Without warning, without a sound, without a whisper, without a call.

The end of the beginning.

Of when fate decided to try its hand with life, changing the course of all.

For a thousand years ago, the jujutsu society was at its high boasting about great families within their ranks and a seer to guide them all.

The seer, who were specialists in the mystics and great beyond, who helped build empires, defend against curses, win wars - the great seer revered, respected, and treasured. 

Alas, this seer fled, vanished, and doomed the jujutsu society.

For without her visions, how can the sorcerers ever know of the truth and lies that the future holds, to protect them from whatever threatens them? Of the corruption that would soon waste them away? Their arrogance and overdependency on her visions became their downfall, yet few could actually attest to that.

The jujutsu world was a strange, fickle, archaic, and destructive kind with an equally disturbing system. A system unwilling to change, unwilling to adapt, willing only to lead by example.

After her disappearance, they were left with crumbs to pick up, on where she'd be for their next life - for without her visions, how would they be able to secure safety for themselves?

(how selfish of them)

Lo and behold, a thousand years later, and she would appear again, outside of Japan and born half a Gojo! What tremendous luck they have!

Without wasting another second, they sent their best sorcerers to abduct the child and took her by force from her mother, bringing her all the way to Japan.

Only they could have their hands on this seer, one they've waited for thousands for years, one who remains theirs, rightfully theirs, one who has to atone for her sins of leaving the jujutsu society vulnerable all those years ago.

Yes, this child must bear the sins of her ancestors, must live a life for the future of the jujutsu sorcerers.

She is theirs.

Theirs and theirs alone!

But alas, Gojo Satoru caught wind of the other Gojo, singlehandedly took her from them and took her under his care.

How dare he!

So long as he was alive, no way would they ever get their hands on the seer, the great diviner, the all-seeing eye!

How dare he!

Gojo Satoru who manages to effortlessly insert himself in situations he shouldn't be, halting or stopping decisions entirely, establishing his presence as the strongest sorcerer - a title that many of them cannot deny, with much disdain, he, who is without a shred of doubt, a threat.

The Gojo seer continued to live her life, foolishly and blissfully unaware of her true value. Foolish little girl!

The past and present converged into one another, tightly wounding and bounding, meshing and mixing in between the seems, for a future nobody knows, a future nobody is prepared for, but a future nonetheless for all.

However, unbeknownst to all - even to the jujutsu higher-ups, the Great Gojo Satoru, and his beloved little sister, the future in store was not kind. No.

It's as though the past comes back to haunt, to call out for sins to be repented.

Strange as it seems, it all went according to plan - Gojo Satoru finding out about his sister, Fushiguro Megumi sent to Sendai, Miyagi to fetch a cursed object and meeting Itadori Yuuji, Itadori Yuuji ingesting said cursed object and hosting Ryoumen Sukuna, reviving the King of Curses after a thousand years. Yes. Marvelous. All according to plan. 

The characters were set, ties looming into each other. Glorious.

It was inevitable, that these characters had special ties connecting them with each other, keeping their lives intertwined, for such was the plan for the grander scheme of things.

There was nothing.

A sea of nothing.

Endless nothing.

It went on and on and on and on and on and on.

It was a nothing that comforting, a nothing where nothing existed, a nothing where nothing was felt.

It was a nothing with that - nothing.

The perfect word for it would be void, however, voids can still have something in them.

And there was red.

A field of red spread across, going on forever and ever and ever.

Curious, she got to her knees to inspect. A flower, it was a red flower with six umbels and a long stamen, blooming outward, as though seeking life. Fingering through its petals, her eyes followed along millions of them spread.

Suddenly, a cold chill ran down her. For some reason, she looked up, meeting nothing.

And yet, she remembered the feeling dwelling in her in a sea of nothing.

Yes, she remembered this feeling.

She knows that feeling.

"Where am I?" a voice cut through the nothing.

In front of her stood someone who looked exactly like her, except, one pair of her eyes had the trademark Six Eyes of the Gojo clan, there was a streak of white running down the right side of her hair, and she was dressed in clothing much different from hers.

Recognition fell upon her, blinking calmly as a faint smile graced her lips.

“Who are you?” asked the girl.

Her smile turned sad as she approached, crushing the flowers under her feet.

The same recognition fell unto her mismatched eyes, but probably not the same kind of recognition she had.

With the gentleness akin to a mother, she eyed the girl before her.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, her voice echoing in the dark. “I’m sorry to have cursed you – all of you,” confusion crosses her face, it hurts her even more. “to have you all carry my burden." The red all around them seemed to glow, a vibrant, blinding red. "I’m sorry.”

Confusion continued to riddle her features, which makes this meeting just more bittersweet.

And then came rain, pouring down on them.

It washed over them, over the flowers.

And then nothing.

Come a thousand years later, and there they were.

A promise foretold, enacted finally.

He, a man resurrected from the dead, free from the curses that kept him away, taking what was rightfully his with her beating heart in his.

And she, a shell of a woman in the form of her now empty descendent.

At last, he had his comeuppance, at last, he got his revenge.

As he devoured her heart, feeling the remaining pieces of his powers return, as did the memories. What a cruel twist of fate.

Suddenly, his mind felt like a rush of water downstream. He could feel his immeasurable power returning, could feel in pumping his veins, yet at the same time, there were tears.

Elsewhere was Fushiguro Megumi, screaming over and over the name of the woman he had just killed – a scream of desperation, anguish, and pain. Why did it sound so familiar?

Finding a blackened uniform, hovering over a body laid in her own pool of blood, the boy continued to scream and scream.

Fushiguro Megumi was a man he couldn’t wait to see at his full potential for battle, another in his list of to-kills, having shown great potential as a jujutsu sorcerer and as part of the wretched Zen’in. But this was far from the man he knew, all he saw was a weeping boy, a boy who lost his mind as he was grieving, begging over and over a corpse, the corpse of his beloved.

Satisfied, he should be, right? Yet, why doesn't he feel it? Why does a part of him feel a great loss? Why does a part of him feel as though he was the one with a ripped soul?

A flash of white came to view, standing next to the crying boy, his stance was rigid, apart from that nothing with his back turned.

Kneeling, Gojo Satoru let his fingers press against the dead girl's eyelids, closing them shut. His hands fell to her cheeks, engulfing them in his large fingers, lingering, thumbs caressing her ice-cold cheeks. Once filled with warmth and life.

"Megumi," says Gojo Satoru, cursed energy just radiating off him. "mind if ya take yourself and (Y/N) aside?" lowering his blindfold, his cursed energy increased in power, reeking of maliciousness. "Things are about to get messy."

He met Gojo Satoru's murderous look head-on, finally getting that fight he long promised him.

And yet, as he stood there, tears leaked from his eyes.

Even with all his powers returned, him being at his full glory, his heart felt more hollow than before.